


Aliens Exist

by Rinner



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aliens, Alternate Universe - Aliens, High School, M/M, Romance, Science Fiction, i was peer pressured into doing this ok, iwaizumi is volleyball captain, let me live ok, matsuhana is side pairing bc i love them, oikawa is sci fi president
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-09-19 21:54:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 55,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9461831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinner/pseuds/Rinner
Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime already has a lot on his plate; he's captain of the Aoba Johsai volleyball team, he's got college entrance exams coming up fast, and his time is running out. The last thing he needs is Oikawa Tooru, the handsome, but objectively insufferable, president of the science fiction club on his tail.However, an unfortunate late-night encounter results in just that, and Oikawa swears to prove the existence of aliens to the skeptical Iwaizumi, who dismisses his theories as crackpot sci-fi nonsense.Unfortunately, sometimes truth is stranger than fiction.





	1. Midnight Walks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thefluffcat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefluffcat/gifts), [CatLover0](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatLover0/gifts).



> This is dedicated to @thefluffcat and @catlover0 because they made me do it  
> I know, I know, I have the Love Live fic, but I'm about halfway through, and I *did* say that I'd start posting this once I reached the midway point, SO........................  
> Fortunately, this was my NaNoWriMo project (50,000 words in 30 days, bitches!) so it's almost done. Which is good, because I should be focusing on Love Live ANYWAY. So yeah. This was the only time I have ever experienced peer pressure, and it was to write fanfic.  
> The truth is #weouthere

   The smell of hormones and sweat itched at Iwaizumi’s nose; _teenage boy smell,_ he thought. The gym at Aoba Johsai was packed with them—two dozen fifteen-to-eighteen year olds, yelling, running, and generally being rowdy. Not to say that he was any exception; in fact, 3rd-year Iwazumi Hajime sat at the throne of sweaty-teenager-land as the captain of the prestigious Aoba Johsai high school volleyball team.

   “Captain!”

   A first-year student came running up to him. Number thirteen, _Kunimi Akira,_ Iwaizumi thought.

   The young man looked up at him. “I will not be able to attend practice on Wednesday afternoon.”

   Iwaizumi frowned. Kunimi had a habit of skipping practices, but it wasn’t often that he gave an excuse. “Have you talked to Coach Mizoguchi about it?”

   “Yes. I have an important doctor’s appointment that afternoon, and I cannot miss it.”

   He raised an eyebrow skeptically. “You couldn’t schedule it for another time?”

   “No, sir.”

   Iwaizumi relented a little; being called “sir” by the first-years _did_ appeal to his ego a little, something that he did his honest best to keep at bay. “Alright then,” he said, letting his voice soften by a hair. “Make sure you’re here the rest of the week, though. And don’t skip conditioning on Wednesday, either.”

   Kunimi nodded curtly and returned to practicing serves. Iwaizumi checked the time on his phone: 7:14. He looked over at Coach Mizoguchi, who met his eyes, and nodded.

   “Alright, everybody!” Iwaizumi called over the din. The other players stopped what they were doing, and turned to look at him. “Give it a rest!”

   The balls and nets were left abandoned as the team gathered around Iwaizumi. “Good work today!” he said, clapping his hands together. “Remember, we have a practice match against Nekoma coming up this Friday. I’m expecting the best from all of you.”

   There was a universal “yes, sir!” from the crowd, and Iwaizumi nodded firmly. “Alright. Let’s get started cleaning up, then.”

\--

   Cleaning the gym that night didn’t take long, which Iwaizumi was grateful for; as spring approached, so did exams and other headaches, including the Spring Tournament. As a result, he hadn’t been sleeping as much lately, and practices sometimes felt like they lasted for years at a time.

   He walked in silence alongside the road home; it was dark, but the moon was bright, and he didn’t need to worry about getting lost or tripping in the night. Iwaizumi often found he enjoyed solitary walks home; they allowed him to clear his head and put all of his thoughts in order.

   _Maybe I’ll grow a beard,_ he thought as he gazed up at the night sky. _I’m seventeen. That seems like an appropriate age for a beard. Can I even grow a beard? I’ve never really tried. What if I max out at like three or four centimeters and just end up looking homeless? This is a lot to think about…_

As Iwaizumi delved deeper into his beard-centric introspection, he failed to notice the sound of another person shuffling within the high grass that grew on the side of the road. The sounds grew louder, finally culminating in a loud curse and a flash of light that jolted Iwaizumi out of his trance.

  _Shit!_ He thought. _I knew I’d run into trouble eventually, walking home by myself at night…_

He waited patiently for another sign of movement, squinting in the moonlight at the grass, which had fallen silent. Finally, the grass rustled again, and Iwaizumi took a couple of steps forward. It stopped, and he did as well. Silence again. Then, more movement. Iwaizumi followed.

   This tense pattern continued for another half a minute or so, until it seemed that the source of the noise had disappeared altogether. Iwaizumi began to relax, and let his guard drop.

   _Seeing things,_ he thought. _I’m under too much stress—_

“A- _HA!”_

The grass in front of him exploded in a flurry of movement and flashlight beams, and Iwaizumi stumbled backwards, almost falling over in the process. He yelled in surprise, and it was matched by an equally surprised yelp from his attacker.

   When the initial chaos settled, and Iwaizumi regained his vision after being blinded by the flashlight, he looked up to face the force that had nearly put him into cardiac arrest at the young age of seventeen.

   Instead of a rugged criminal, a handsome young man was standing in front of him. He looked vaguely familiar; he was wearing the Aoba Johsai school uniform, so Iwaizumi was sure he’d seen him around school somewhere. His thick brown hair was parted neatly over his face, which was twisted into expression of what Iwaizumi realized was _offense._

“Dammit!” he said. “You’re not an alien!”

   Iwaizumi stared blankly at him, still in shock. “You’re… just some idiot.”

   “Hey!” he yelled. “I’m not the one stalking strangers in the middle of the night!”

   “I wasn’t stalking you!” Iwaizumi said defensively. “I… I thought you were a mugger!”

   The young man stared at him, and Iwaizumi cleared his throat. “What the hell are you wandering around here for?”

   “I—I was looking for—something,” he said, crossing his arms firmly. “Someone said they saw something suspicious out here, so I came to check it out.”

   “Wait,” Iwaizumi said. “Are you… _actually_ looking for aliens?”

   He frowned. “Is there something wrong with that?”

   Iwaizumi barely repressed a snort. “N—No, it’s nothing,” he said. “Pfft… aliens…”

   “Well what are YOU doing here?”

   “I’m on my way home,” he said, frowning. “And I’d really like to get there.”

   “Fine then,” he said. “Go ahead. You’re probably scaring off all the aliens with that face, anyway.”

   Iwaizumi felt a shouting match rising up in his throat, but swallowed it back down. _Don’t get into it with him, Hajime,_ he thought. _Let it go. Even if he is a twit._

“Fine,” he spat. “Good luck finding your little green men.”

   “They’re GREY!”

   Iwaizumi ignored this, turning his back to alien-boy, and heading instead back up to the road. _Aliens,_ he thought. _ALIENS. What kind of weirdo spends their Wednesday night looking for ALIENS?_

_…And why do they have to be GREY?_


	2. E.T.: The Extra (in)Tolerable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! I totally forgot about this yesterday, due to school-related hysteria, but I'm on top of it now, even though it's 1:30 in the morning here. Oh well.  
> Anyway, updates will now be every two weeks! I'm not 100% done with this fic, so I need a little time to finish the last couple of chapters. But, until then, there will be at least semi-regular updates (forgive me if I'm a day late).

   Iwaizumi dreamt of Nekoma that night. And aliens. All of the Nekoma volleyball players had become little green men, with only their respective jerseys and hairstyles to distinguish them. They had telekinetic powers, and kept scoring points by shoving the ball away from Iwaizumi’s hands. Just as he was sure he was about to score a point himself, the little pudding-head one pulled out a massive laser gun, and fired it at him. He woke up in a cold sweat, frantically patting his chest to make sure he was still in one piece.

    _Stupid alien-boy with his stupid conspiracies, and stupid Nekoma, and stupid ME…_

He left early for school that morning; after his dream about Nekoma and their extra-terrestrial players, he hadn’t been able to sleep, and figured he might as well get a head start. As he walked, he passed the grove of tall grass where he’d encountered alien-boy the night before. There were still trampled patches from where he had run in and out of the little ditch; farther on, he could see indents where the other boy had entered and been walking around.

   _Aliens, here. Of all places. He’s really gotta be out there._

\--

   The rest of the day passed slowly for Iwaizumi, which he chalked up to a result of his less-than-restful night. Several times, he felt himself nodding to sleep in class, and had to force himself to sit up; he couldn’t afford any poor marks right now.

   However, this became increasingly difficult throughout the course of the day, and by the time his last class ended, Iwaizumi was almost tempted to cancel practice so he could go home and nap; but he knew this would never fly, especially not with their practice match against Nekoma just one day away. He checked his watch; there was still a half hour until practice started. Maybe he could find a nice, quiet classroom, and take a quick rest.

   The C Building would almost certainly be close to empty this time of day. C Building housed most of the science and math classes, which were usually in the morning and early afternoon. Iwaizumi slipped through the crowded halls of the main building, and outside to the next building.

   _The third floor is probably my best bet,_ he thought. _Most of those rooms are labs, anyway._

For three-thirty, there were still a surprising amount of people in the building, but Iwaizumi didn’t think much of it. They were probably just stragglers from the last classes.

   As he turned a corner to take the stairs, something caught his eye; amongst the sea of plaid and beige, one figure stood taller than the rest of the students. He couldn’t see his face, but he could see neatly-parted brown hair, and a familiar swagger—besides, no one else could possibly trigger his indigestion like that.

   _God, not alien-boy again._

Fortunately for Iwaizumi, alien-boy didn’t notice him, and busied himself instead with the contents of his backpack. He pulled out a folder full of papers, examined them for a minute, then tucked them under his arm. In one swift motion, he slung his book bag back over his shoulder, and headed down the hallway.

   _Where’s he going?_ Iwaizumi wondered. He looked at his watch; he still had fifteen minutes before he had to be at the gym. _I guess it couldn’t hurt to look._

He stepped out from his corner, and began following alien-boy from a safe distance. They went down the hallway, away from the crowds, and Iwaizumi had to start getting sneakier about his mission. Finally, he stopped at a door, and stepped inside. A chorus of voices came from inside, but Iwaizumi couldn’t hear what they were saying; he stepped closer, and pressed his ear to the door.

   “…last night, but no success,” alien-boy’s voice was saying. “I’ll try again tonight.”

   “If anyone can do it, Tooru, it’s you.”

   “Get ‘em, Oikawa!”

   There was a chorus of laughter, and Iwaizumi’s phone beeped. He was running out of time before practice started.

   He found an office a few doors down from where alien-boy had entered, and stepped inside.

   “Excuse me,” he said. “What’s currently meeting in room 159?”

   The teacher looked down at a file, and traced his finger down a list. “Hmm,” he said. “Room 159? The science fiction club meets in there tonight.”

   “Who’s in charge of that?”

   “Um,” the man said, looking back at the list. “Oikawa Tooru.”

   _Oikawa Tooru._ “Thank you,” Iwaizumi said with a nod. The teacher nodded back, and Iwaizumi left, shutting the door behind him.

   _Now I know your name._

_\--_

   Despite his best efforts, Iwaizumi’s undercover diversion had cost him too much time, and he’d been late to practice. Coach Mizoguchi was _not_ impressed by his excuse that he had been on the phone with his bank about an overdraft, and Iwaizumi ended up getting quite an earful. He supposed that tensions were a bit high because of their match against Nekoma the next day, but he’d still appreciate a little bit of slack from his coach.

   However, in spite of his tardiness, practice had gone well. It seemed like the rest of the team was on top of their game, and ready for Nekoma tomorrow. Even the first year, Kunimi, had shown up at the end to practice his serves. When he called for the end of practice that night, the team members gathered around, exhausted, but pleased with their hard work.

   “You all did a good job tonight,” he said, clasping his hands together. “If you keep playing like this, tomorrow’s match won’t be a problem. Got it?”

   There was a murmur of general enthusiasm, and Iwaizumi nodded firmly. “Good. Now, go get some rest, and eat well tomorrow. Don’t stay up late watching TV or whatever. You need to be in top condition tomorrow.”

   “Thanks, mom,” said Matsukawa, another third year. Next to him, Hanamakki, the team vice-captain, sniggered quietly.

   “I’m going to bench you both,” Iwaizumi said flatly, and they straightened out. “Anyway, all the REST of you go home and get some sleep once we finish cleaning.”

   “So MEAN Iwaizumi!” Hanamakki teased, wringing his hands in false distress.

   Iwaizumi thrust a mop in his direction. “Start cleaning, Hanamakki.”

\--

   After the cleaning had been finished, and the rest of the team departed, Iwaizumi stood alone in the gym. He’d taken a few extra minutes to make sure everything was clean, and once he’d approved, started to head out. As he left the gym, he heard a door slam, and from behind him, a voice called out:

   “Hey! You!”

   He turned around and grimaced. It was alien-boy again. _What does he want?_

Alien-boy—or, Oikawa Tooru, he supposed—jogged up to him; his handsome faced was curved into a stubborn frown, his eyebrows turned downwards into a scowl.

   Iwaizumi sighed. “What do you—“  
   “You’re not that stealthy, you know,” Oikawa said matter-of-factly. Iwaizumi froze. “Do you really think I didn’t notice you following me today? I’m way smarter than that!”

   Iwaizumi felt like this was probably a debatable point, but didn’t push it. “I wasn’t _following_ you,” he snapped. This was a blatant lie, but he didn’t want to admit alien-boy was _right._ “It happened that I was just going the same direction.”

   “People who are ‘just going the same direction’ don’t feel the need to walk slowly and hide behind corners,” Oikawa said stubbornly.

   _Shit._ “Well, how did YOU find me?” he said. “Did you follow me here?”

   “I don’t need to stalk you to find out who you are,” Oikawa said. “You’re the captain of the volleyball team, _everyone_ knows you.”

   Admittedly, he had a point. “Fine,” Iwaizumi spat, conceding to his defeat. “What do you want, then?”

   “Well, originally, I came to ask you why you were following me, but now, I think I’ve got it figured out,” he said. “I went looking for aliens, and I found them—it’s you!”

  “What?!” Iwaizumi demanded. _That’s it. He’s out of his damn mind._ “Are you stupid?! How the hell am _I_ an alien?!”

   Oikawa smiled mischievously, eyeing Iwaizumi like a hungry tomcat eyes a bird. _Is he serious, or is he just playing with me?_ Iwaizumi thought. _Either way, it’s pisses me off._

“I just so HAPPEN to be out investigating a report of strange lights in the woods, and you just so HAPPEN to find me—you came _looking_ for me, even—and then you just so HAPPEN to follow me after school…” he squinted for a moment. "And I mean, look at those!" he said, pointing to Iwaizumi's face. "No real human has eyebrows like that!"

   _He’s stupid. He’s so goddamn stupid._ Iwaizumi drew in a deep breath, and clenched his fists. As badly as he wanted to punch alien-boy’s lights out, it could easily cost him his captainship, and that was something Iwaizumi wasn’t willing to risk.

   “Alright,” he said, mustering up all the self-control he had. Oikawa was still smirking at him; for a moment, Iwaizumi fantasized about throwing him head-first into the ditch where he’d first found him. “First of all, I’m not an alien.”

   “Sure sounds like something an alien would say.”

   “LOOK—!” he took a deep breath. “Ok. How do you expect me to prove that I’m NOT an alien?”

   “Well, you haven’t tried to kill me yet, so that’s a pretty good start,” he said. _Just because I haven’t done anything yet doesn’t mean I’m not considering it,_ Iwaizumi thought. “But that’s a good question. Let me think for a moment.”

   He placed his chin in his hand, looking introspective, as Iwaizumi gaped at him. _He’s really something, I’ll give him that._

“I’ve got it!” he said. “I’m the president of the sci-fi club, so I’ll have my club members vote on it. We meet Mondays and Thursdays, so I should have a verdict for you that night.”

   “You’re… kidding, right?” Iwaizumi said. “You’re going to have a bunch of the sci-fi club members vote on _whether or not I’m an alien?”_

“Not THAT, just how to tell if you are,” he said as though this were obvious. “I won’t tell them your name or anything.”

   “Thanks,” Iwaizumi said flatly. “You tell me how that goes.”

   The mischievous smile came bursting back, and Iwaizumi repressed a sigh of resignation. “Oh, I will. I’ll see you on Monday, Iwaizumi Hajime!”

\--

   Entering the second game of the Nekoma practice match the next day, Iwaizumi felt surprisingly comfortable. He was sure that after his second encounter with alien-boy, he’d have another sleepless night, if not another bizarre nightmare. However, he had fallen asleep with relative ease, and since E.T. hadn’t made any guest appearances in his subconscious, he’d actually gotten a decent night’s rest.

   As they were waiting for the game to begin, Mizoguchi came up to him;

   “Everything alright, Iwaizumi?” he asked. “You’re quiet today.”

   “Huh?” Iwaizumi said; he hadn’t been paying attention. “Oh, yeah. Everything’s fine, sorry. I’ll give the players a quick prep before the next game starts.”

   Mizoguchi nodded firmly, and Iwaizumi clapped his hands to get the team’s attention. “Everybody!” he said. “Before we start!”

   The players gathered around him; most of them were dripping with sweat. Nekoma had been putting up a good fight, but they had scraped a win in the last match. “We won the last one by the skin of our teeth, and that’s great, but we’re not out of trouble yet,” he said. “This game needs to be our most powerful one. Do your absolute best to score as many points as you can in the first few minutes, try to wear down their morale. And keep your eye on their setter—there’s something suspicious about him. Everyone got it?”

   The whole team nodded in agreement, and Iwaizumi nodded again, this time with a slight smile on his face. “Alright then,” he said. “Let’s crush them this time.”

   The players cheered, and the whistle blew to signal the beginning of the game; Iwaizumi returned to the court feeling just a little more confident than when he’d left.

\--

   Iwaizumi supposed that whatever that pep talk was, it must have worked, because they managed to pull out a win against Nekoma by seven points. Yahaba and Watari had both tried to high-five him simultaneously, despite Iwaizumi insisting this was just a practice match, which ended in matching head injuries. Hanamakki had come out of nowhere and practically tackled him to the ground, causing Iwaizumi to curse loudly and stumble as he tried to catch him. However, even though he’d just insisted to Yahaba and Watari that it was only a practice, Iwaizumi couldn’t help but feel a little bit proud of his team and himself.

   _They really pulled it off,_ he thought. _This season’s looking better and better._

As the bus pulled out of the Nekoma parking lot, Iwaizumi settled comfortably into his seat near the back. He briefly considered a nap, when out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone move towards him, and take the neighboring seat. Hanamakki was sitting next to him, a half-cocked smile on his face.

   “Nice job, captain,” he said. “You lead us to victory yet again.”

   “…Are you making fun of me?” Iwaizumi said, narrowing his eyes.

   Hanamakki held up his hands in surrender. “No, not at all,” he said. Iwaizumi continued to stare at him. “…Seriously, Hajime,” he said sincerely. “I’m not.”

   Iwaizumi relaxed, and let himself smile a little. “Alright. Thanks, Hanamakki.”

   “Thank you, really,” he said offhandedly. “A lot of the players look up to you. I think you work as some really strong glue here.”

   “I’m doing my best,” Iwaizumi said. He meant it.

   “And it shows,” Hanamakki said. He paused; “Were you zoning out a little, though? It seemed like you were quiet; I overheard you talking to the coach before the second game, so I know he was thinking it too.”

   “Oh, yeah,” Iwaizumi said. “I guess I just wasn’t paying attention.”

   Hanamakki raised an eyebrow. “Iwaizumi Hajime, not paying attention? Can it really be true? Are you REALLY Iwaizumi?” He faked a dramatic gasp. “An imposter!”

   “Shut up.”

   Hanamakki laughed. “Sorry, Iwaizumi. Just playing with you. But hey, for real, is everything all right?”

   “Everything’s fine,” Iwaizumi assured him. “I was just really focused on the game.”

   “I thought you said you weren’t paying attention?”

   “To talking, I mean,” he said. “I was trying to be introspective, okay?”

   The grin on Hanamakki’s face returned. “Alright, Mr. Introspective. You keep it up, because whatever you’re doing, it looks like it’s working.”

   “Thanks, Hanamakki,” Iwaizumi said, half-smiling himself. “You played well today, too.”

   Hanamakki winked. “Anything for my captain!”

\--

   Iwaizumi saw neither hide nor hair of Oikawa that day, and heard no word from him the next day, either. He had honestly expected the other boy to come knocking on his door, holding some dangerous-looking sci-fi gadget and asking Iwaizumi to stick out his tongue.

   However, once Monday came, Iwaizumi’s radar switched back to high alert. There was no practice on Mondays, a fact which Oikawa probably knew. Iwaizumi was tense all day, knowing that he could pop out at any moment and demand a DNA sample.

   _Maybe I’ll just leave right after class and hope I can outrun him,_ he thought. _…Nah. He’ll probably find me somehow, and then he’ll just be more suspicious of me. It’s not as though he even has anything be suspicious OF. What does he want? Is it just to embarrass me? God, it’s like trying to read a brick wall._

At 3:45, the last bell of the day rang, and Iwaizumi lingered inconspicuously outside the door to his classroom. If he was right, then Oikawa should have no problem finding him here.

   “Iwaizumi!”

   Sometimes, Iwaizumi genuinely despised being right. Alien-boy appeared from the crowd, looking smug.

   “Come on, you’re the guest of honor today!” he said. Iwaizumi groaned.

   “What does that mean?”

   “Don’t worry about it, it’s nothing embarrassing,” Oikawa said offhandedly. “But who knows, maybe I’ll get to tell everyone I brought in a REAL ALIEN for them!”

   At this rate, Iwaizumi was going to run out of ways to express his disgust. “For the last goddamn time,” he said, “I’m not an alien.”

   “Well, I guess we’ll see, won’t we?” Oikawa said cheerfully.

   Iwaizumi followed him back into the C-building, to the same classroom as the other day. As they approached the door, Oikawa stopped and said:

   “Now, Iwaizumi, I know you normally don’t associate with the lowly nerd-class, but—“

   “Just get on with it,” Iwaizumi said flatly.

   Oikawa looked rather deflated; something told Iwaizumi he’d had a whole speech planned. “A-Anyway, the point is, they’re not so bad, so be nice okay?”

   Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow. “I’m a saint.”

   Oikawa didn’t look like he believed this, but he must have been eager to get to the club, because he let the subject drop, and opened the door anyway.

   Inside were about a dozen people, ranging from first to third years; Iwaizumi didn’t know any of them, but they all seemed to know him.

   “Iwaizumi?” a girl gasped. “What are you doing here?”

   “The captain is our special guest today!” Oikawa said cheerfully. “He’s just hear to listen to our meeting.”

   “You can sit next to me if you’d like, Captain Iwaizumi,” the girl said shyly, shifting in her seat.

   “Thank you,” Iwaizumi said politely, making the girl blush. He sat down, and from across the room, saw Oikawa staring daggers at him.

   “ANYWAY,” he said loudly, “today’s meeting is a very important topic. As you all know, last week, there were reports of strange lights and sounds by the Ministop a couple of kilometers from here. The other night, I went out to investigate, and I found something… strange.”

   There was a murmur of excitement from the club members, and Oikawa held up a hand for silence, which fell immediately. _He’s like the conductor of the philharmonic nerd orchestra,_ Iwaizumi thought.

   “Yes, I know… but as always, it was nothing I couldn’t handle. While I was searching a large patch of grass, I was… ATTACKED!”

   _Oh here it comes._

The club members gasped in unison. “But worry not, I was fine. My attacker, however… was strange,” he said. “He had this face, an angry, awful face, and these, these EYEBROWS, they were like caterpillars!”

   Iwaizumi gripped the table to keep himself from shouting. _I hate him,_ he thought. _I hate him, I hate him, I hate him, I hate him…_

“But, nonetheless, there’s still the possibility that he was human,” Oikawa continued matter-of-factly. So my question to you, dear members, is this: how do you determine whether or not someone is an alien?”

   “Well, he tried to kill you, didn’t he?” one of the members said. “I think that’s a pretty good start.”

   “He didn’t try to kill me, per say,” Oikawa said offhandedly. “It was more like… a moment of mutual surprise.”

   _I haven’t tried YET,_ Iwaizumi thought furiously. “We need to get some more concrete ideas,” Oikawa was saying. “Iwaizumi! How about you come up and be the example?”

   It took every ounce of patience in Iwaizumi’s body to smile grudgingly and say: “Sure. No problem.”

   “Excellent!” Oikawa said, clapping his hands together. Iwaizumi trudged up to the front of the classroom, where Oikawa presented him like an experienced salesman showing off his product to naïve new customers. “So, if we’re looking at someone’s appearance, what might hint to us that they are an alien?”

   A moment of silence passed, then the girl who Iwaizumi had been sitting next to raised her hand. “I mean,” she said shyly, “aliens are supposed to be tall, right?”

   “Good point!” Oikawa exclaimed. “Extraterrestrials are tall, so the taller someone is, the more likely it is that they’re an alien.” He looked Iwaizumi up and down, and shook his head. “Nope. Iwaizumi is too short.”

   _You’re like ONE centimeter taller than me,_ Iwaizumi thought. Oikawa had turned back to the members; “What else?”

   “Definitely skin tone,” someone else said. “Aliens are probably pale, or have cold and clammy skin.”

   “Iwaizumi’s definitely not pale, so I think we can cross that one out here,” Oikawa said cheerfully.

   “What about eyes?” asked a boy in the far back. “Most aliens are supposed to have big eyes that let a lot of light in, so they have to wear sunglasses.”

   “Hmm,” Oikawa said. “That’s a good point.”

   Oikawa spun around to face him, and before Iwaizumi knew what was happening, they were nose to nose. It was ironic for Oikawa to accuse him of having big eyes, because from this close, Oikawa’s eyes looked like saucers. Flying saucers, even.

   _Now is not the time for jokes, dammit._

Whatever Oikawa was looking for, he didn’t find it, and gave up. “These are all great points!” he said encouragingly. “Any final thoughts?”

   “I’ve read before that tomorrow-people have strange ridges in their forehead,” said the same guy who had suggested big eyes.

   “I didn’t see any ridges when I was checking his eyes,” Oikawa said. “So, in conclusion, what does everyone think—is Iwaizumi an alien?”

   There was a collective “no” from the crowd, and Iwaizumi breathed a sigh of relief. _Now that’s over with._

“Congratulations, Iwaizumi, you’re officially not an alien,” Oikawa said cheerfully. “Anyway, it’s about time we continued with our meeting…”

\--

   Several times, Iwaizumi seriously considered sneaking out of the classroom, but Oikawa was keeping a watchful eye on him from the front, and he knew there was no way he’d be able to escape.

   _What does he want now?_ Iwaizumi wondered. _I’ve proved I’m not an alien—as asinine as that sounds—what’s left for me to do? Let me go, alien-boy._

The rest of the meeting consisted of an extremely in-depth analysis of an American TV show that Iwaizumi had never heard of, The something-or-other Files. Whatever it was, they all seemed very into it, and it took Iwaizumi all of about thirty seconds to realize that it was about aliens, which in retrospect, he supposed, shouldn’t really surprise him.

   Once the meeting was over, Iwaizumi gathered up his things, and headed for the door. However, he didn’t make it three steps into the hall before Oikawa’s voice called him back:

   “Hey! Iwaizumi! Wait up!”

   He sighed, and came to a stop; Oikawa jogged up beside him. “Why are you in such a rush to leave? You’re coming back, right?”

   “What?” Iwaizumi said. “You’ve already proved I’m not an alien, what is there left to do?”

   “Well, maybe you could come back!” Oikawa huffed. “I mean, it’s not like you have anything to DO on Mondays, anyway.”

   “Did it ever occur to you that I might have friends and a life?”

   “No.”

   Iwaizumi sighed. “Okay, never mind, you’re impossible. Look, I’m flattered that you want me to come back and all, but I mean, Oikawa, I don’t even think aliens are _real,_ I don’t think I could join a whole club about them.”

   Oikawa looked genuinely offended. “Not REAL?” he demanded. “You’re kidding, right? I mean, look at all the evidence!”

   “What evidence?” Iwaizumi asked. “Weirdos on internet forums telling stories about being kidnapped by lizard-people are not aliens.”

   “There’s photos!” Oikawa said. “What about Roswell, over in the U.S.? Or the meteors in Russia? It’s the twenty-first century, Iwaizumi, of COURSE we’re in contact with the aliens!”

   “You’re out of your mind,” he snapped. “It’s all Photoshop and conspiracy theory.”

   “Maybe you’re just not open-minded enough!”

   “There’s nothing to be open-minded ABOUT!”

   “You know what, Iwaizumi?” Oikawa said loudly, pointing an accusing finger at him. “I’ll prove it to you! I’m going to prove to you that aliens exist!”

   “And how are you going to do THAT?” Iwaizumi said.

   “I… I…” Oikawa hesitated; clearly, he hadn’t gotten that far when he announced his intentions. “I’m going to continue my investigation! Tomorrow night! And you’re going to come with me!”

   “I have volleyball practice tomorrow night,” Iwaizumi said. “I can’t go ambling off with you to find Mr. Spock and the rest of the Vulcans.”

   “Don’t be stupid,” Oikawa snapped. “The Vulcans are—.” He stopped, considering the rest of the sentence. “Never mind. Your practice ends at eight, you have plenty of time afterwards.”

   “And if I say no?”

   He smiled, a mischievous, clever thing. “I guess the whole school’s gonna hear about how you’re an alien!”

   “You’re really bad at threatening people,” Iwaizumi said flatly, and Oikawa frowned. “But, fine, whatever. I’ll go hunt ‘aliens’ with you.”

   “Good!” Oikawa said, his smile returning. “I’ll meet you outside of your gym tomorrow night. And bring a flashlight or something, I only have one!”

   He sighed. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

   Oikawa’s grin broadened; it was more genuine this time—not as much wit and mischief hiding in the lines of face. “I’ll prove it to you, Iwaizumi. You won’t believe your eyes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, longer chapters! This is standard-ish length, most chapters are 3-5000 words. Anyway, now that Iwaizumi is #confirmed for not an alien, he and Oikawa can start the real adventure.................. which you will see in the next chapter!  
> Until then, y'all can catch me @Sailor-rinn on tumblr


	3. Stranger Than Fiction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Iwaizumi has proved his humanity, it's up to Oikawa to prove his cause.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aliens are real and one sucked my dick behind an Arby's

   Normally, Iwaizumi put a certain amount of pride into being present and focused at practices. He felt as though if he weren’t focused, neither was his team; they needed their captain to lead by example. However, thanks to Oikawa and his invitation, Iwaizumi felt his mind slipping all throughout the next day; neither class nor practice was immune to the drifting of his mind, and he could tell people were noticing.

   “Iwaizumi,” Hanamakki’s voice said, “What’s going on with you? That’s the second serve you’ve missed.”

   “Sorry,” Iwaizumi said quickly. “I didn’t sleep well last night; I’ll get the next one.”  
   Hanamakki nodded, but still looked concerned. Iwaizumi gritted his teeth and adjusted himself on the court, determined to hit the next ball that came towards him.

   _God I’m stupid,_ he thought. _I can’t believe I’m letting myself be dragged into an ALIEN HUNT, of all unholy fucking things. Like I don’t have BETTER things to do than go searching through the woods for E.T. with the president of the science fiction club._

Just then, a ball came flying in his direction, and Iwaizumi swung at it. He hit it with such ferocity that it flew upwards, almost to the ceiling, and came soaring down into the other side of the net; the players were so distracted by its height, that they didn’t even make a move to save it. It bounced harmlessly on the wooden floor of the gym, and rolled away.

   From his left, Iwaizumi heard Hanamakki laughing. “Not quite what I was hoping for, Iwaizumi, but not bad.”

\--

   When practice let out, Iwaizumi took a few extra minutes to linger in the changing room before leaving; there was no doubt in his mind that Oikawa was waiting outside for him, concealed in the shadows somewhere, so that the other players wouldn’t notice him.

   Eventually, he decided that there was no other choice than to suck it up, and get on with it; he zippered up the Aobo Johsai team windbreaker, slung his bag over his shoulders, and headed out the door. He hadn’t gone three steps before a voice called:

   “Iwa-chan!”

   He stopped dead. Oikawa emerged from the shadows, waving enthusiastically at him, but suddenly, the alien hunt had been pushed down his list of worries.

   _Iwa-chan?!_

“You were taking forever,” Oikawa said. “I thought you had tried to stand me up!”

   “… What did you call me?” Iwaizumi said slowly, eyeing Oikawa suspiciously.

   “Iwa-chan,” he said casually. Iwaizumi gaped at him. “I figured that since Iwaizumi is kind of a mouthful, I’d shorten it up. Besides, now that I know that you’re not secretly and alien who’s trying to kill me, we can actually be friends.”

   “You keep saying that I’m not trying to kill you, but I don’t think you’re as sure about that as you think you are,” Iwaizumi said flatly.

   “You’re such a tease, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa said, waving his hand dismissively. “If you were going to kill me, you would have done it a long time ago.”

   _Well, he’s not WRONG,_ Iwaizumi thought. “… Alright, fine, whatever. ‘Iwa-chan’ is fine, I guess. Where are we going?”

   “Back to the place where we first met,” Oikawa said, digging around in his bookbag. “Someone told me the other day that they had seen some strange lights from over there, and even more noises. I said that I’d investigate, but then YOU got in the way.”

   Iwaizumi bit back a sharp retort. “So anyway, I bet there’s still some evidence left,” he continued, pulling out a black box about the size of a cellphone from his bag. “And it’s never a bad thing to have a second set of eyes.”

   “You’re crazy,” Iwaizumi said flatly, “but okay. What should I be looking for?”

   “Just anything out of the ordinary,” Oikawa said. “Smells, sounds, strange feelings, flashes of light. You’ll know it when you see it.”

   Iwaizumi felt pretty confident in saying that he wasn’t going to see _anything,_ but decided to play along anyway. “Alright then.” He looked at the black box in Oikawa’s hand. “…What’s that for?”

   “It’s an electromagnetic field detector,” Oikawa explained. “It detects any changes in electricity around us.”

   “And how does that help us?”

   “Alien technology can sometimes alter EMFs around it, so if we’re nearby something, this will tell us,” he said. He pulled something else out of his bag, and handed it to Iwaizumi. “Here, you take this.”

   It was a compass. “What’s THIS for?”

   “Same thing, basically,” Oikawa said. “If there’s any change in polarity or magnetics, the compass will go crazy. It’s also good to have in case we get lost.”

   That, at least, sounded reasonable. “Okay,” Iwaizumi said. “Let’s go find these little green men of yours.”

   “They’re GREY!”

\--

   As they walked, a question occurred to Iwaizumi, and he turned to Oikawa.

   “Why are you so insistent on these aliens being grey, anyway?”

   “Because that’s actually what they are,” Oikawa said. “They’re called the Greys, or the Zeta Reticulans, and they make up almost half of all alien sightings.”

   “What do they look like?”

   “Well, they’re grey, obviously,” he said. “But otherwise, they’re supposed to be short—maybe only half our height—with large heads and huge eyes that completely black.”

   Iwaizumi frowned. “Wait… have you never actually seen one?”

   “Uh… not exactly,” Oikawa said, embarrassed. “But I’m sure they’re out there.”

   “How can you be so sure of something you’ve never even seen?!” Iwaizumi demanded.

   “Maybe I can have some faith!”

   “Having faith in stuff like the sun rising is one thing,” he said, “but aliens and ghosts are a whole other!”

   “They’re not all that different!” Oikawa protested. “You’ve never actually ­ _seen_ the sun, have you? For all you know the whole thing is just a giant projection in the sky, so if you can have faith in that, then I can have faith in aliens!”

   At this point, Iwaizumi figured, there was probably no point in arguing with him. “Okay, so, you have your faith in aliens,” he said. “But why? Why do you care so much about them?”

   Oikawa hesitated. “When I was little, I used to go outside for hours, looking for shooting stars,” he explained. “Every time I saw one, it was like Christmas had come early. After a while, I started wondering, how can we really be alone? Surely, there’s something else out there besides us; so I started reading about space. The idea of aliens, it just… really enthralled me. And when I’m passionate about something, I want to be _really_ passionate about it, you know? If you’re going to hit it, hit it as hard as you can.” He hesitated again. “Also, I watched a lot of _Men in Black_ as a kid.”

   Iwaizumi was rather taken aback; he hadn’t been expecting such a thorough answer. After a moment, he said:

   “That’s… pretty legitimate, I suppose. I mean, if it really makes you happy, you should be able to like whatever you want.”

   Oikawa smiled at him. “It does. What about you, Iwa-chan? Why do you like volleyball so much?”

   “I like being on a team,” Iwaizumi said, choosing to ignore the nickname. “Feeling like others are relying on me motivates me to be my best self. When I was younger, I had a volleyball coach who I admired; he made me want to play.”

   “So noble,” Oikawa mused. “It fits you.”

   “… Thanks,” Iwaizumi said quietly. He cleared his throat; “Anyway, isn’t this about it? What do we do now?”

   “Oh yeah,” Oikawa said, looking towards the side of the road. “Well, I didn’t find anything while I was searching in the grass the other day, so let’s try the woods. Just keep that compass out, and be on the watch for anything that seems suspicious.”

   This sounded simple to Iwaizumi, and he looked down at the compass, which was pointing due north. He looked up, and in the distance, could see the sparkling of the North Star.

   “Alright,” he said. “Let’s go.”

   Oikawa carefully slid down the side of the road, and Iwaizumi followed him. They pushed through the tall grass, emerging on the other side to face the woods; the trees weren’t necessarily very thick, but it went on for as far as Iwaizumi could see.

   “Where did your friend say they saw these lights?” Iwaizumi asked, squinting into the trees.

   “They didn’t really give a specific place,” Oikawa said. “Just in the woods. Come on, they can’t be THAT big.”

\--

   As fate would have it, the woods absolutely _could_ be that big, and it wasn’t sure before Iwaizumi was sure they were hopelessly lost.

   “Oikawa,” he hissed. “It’s been like thirty minutes. There’s nothing here.”

   “You’re being impatient, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa hissed back. “Good investigations take time. Why don’t you tell a story or something?”

   “A story?” he said. “What do you want me to tell a _story_ about?”

   “I don’t know, just make one up!”

   _“Fine,”_ he hissed. “Once upon a time, there was a handsome third-year volleyball captain who was just trying to mind his own business. Then, one day, he encountered a giant pain in the ass, who cursed him to live out the rest of his days looking for E.T. in the woods near his high school. The end.”

   “That’s not a very realistic story, Iwa-chan.”

   “What are you talking about?!” Iwaizumi demanded. “That’s exactly what’s happening right now!”

   “No it’s not,” Oikawa said. “You said the third-year volleyball captain in your story was _handsome.”_

Iwaizumi was genuinely about to deck him, when suddenly, the little black box in Oikawa’s hand started beeping, and they both looked at it.

   “… What does that mean?” Iwaizumi asked.

   “There’s been a change in the electrical field…” Oikawa muttered, squinting at the device. “Something’s strange…”

   He started walking forwards again, and the beeping slowly began to fade. He changed directions to the left, and it started again.

   “This way,” he said, and Iwaizumi noticed there was something different about his voice; he realized that Oikawa Tooru was on edge.

   Iwaizumi followed him a few more yards, and the beeping began to increase. “What’s it doing?” Iwaizumi hissed.

   “The detector’s going crazy,” Oikawa said, barely able to contain his excitement. “There’s something here, Iwa-chan, we’re so close…”

   Something was here, because Iwaizumi suddenly realized that he could _smell_ it. He sniffed the air again, and gagged. “Do you smell that?” he asked.

   Oikawa frowned, and sniffed the air as well. “… Yeah,” he said. “It’s like…motor oil… motor oil and… fish?”

   “It’s gross as hell, whatever it is.”

   “What direction are we going in? I want to write this down. Actually, never mind, let me just find the North Star.” he said.

   Iwaizumi checked the compass anyway; “Uh…” he said. “West.”

   “What?”

   “West.”

   Oikawa looked at him, and his frown deepened. “Iwa-chan, that’s impossible.”

   “What are you talking about?”

   He pointed up at the sky, where the North Star was shining just to their right. “The star is over there,” Oikawa said, “which means that’s north. Which mean that west—“ he pointed to their left, “is behind us.”

   A wave of disbelief washed over Iwaizumi. “It… must be broken,” he said, shaking the compass, which remained stubbornly in position.

   “Compasses don’t just break!” Oikawa said. “They don’t run on batteries or gears, they’re controlled entirely by the earth’s magnetic pull—so if the compass isn’t working, that means that _something is messed up with the magnetic pull.”_

“That—that’s impossible,” Iwaizumi said. For the first time since they had started this misadventure, he was starting to feel real fear. “It’s just not possible, there’s nothing that can disrupt the earth’s magnetic pull--”

   “But clearly, there IS!” he said. “And it’s right HERE!”

   He went sprinting off into the woods, and Iwaizumi followed him at a close pace.

   “Hey!” he yelled. “Oikawa! Don’t go running off, you’re gonna get lost—“

   Oikawa came to a dead stop, almost causing Iwaizumi to run into him face-first.

   “What the hell--?”

   Oikawa held up a hand to silence them; they stood there for a minute, until Iwaizumi whispered:

   “What is it?”

   “I saw something move,” Oikawa said. He pointed slowly to a particularly thick tree about five yards away from them. “Over there.”

   Iwaizumi could feel his heart pounding against his ribcage; what if aliens WERE real? Could he really deal with that kind of revelation right now? What would he do? Where would he go? How could he ever admit that alien-boy was RIGHT?

   Oikawa took a step forward, and something behind the tree rustled, nearly sending Iwaizumi into cardiac arrest. He instinctively grabbed Oikawa’s shoulder, and pulled him back.

   “You’re going to get yourself killed,” he hissed. “Just—“

   Suddenly, the rustling came again, and from behind the tree, appeared… a possum. The poor thing had been scared by their noise, and had decided now was the best time to run.

   “Oh thank god,” Iwaizumi said, feeling his heart rate starting to slow. “It’s just a possum.”

   Oikawa looked rather disappointed. “Yeah,” he said. “Just a possum.”

   Iwaizumi was about to scold him, when he felt his skin prickle. A low electrical humming filled his ears, drowning out his next words; the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and he could see Oikawa falling under the same effect.

   Then, a horrible noise split the air. It was shrill screaming, like a wounded animal, but it pulsed with an electrical quality, and shook the very air around it; Iwaizumi felt like his eyeballs were vibrating inside his skull.

   However, the noise only lasted for two or three seconds before it was drowned out by the screams of both boys, who immediately turned on their heels, and ran at full speed in the opposite direction. The night air tore at Iwaizumi’s lungs, and he could feel himself being cut and scratched by low-hanging tree branches, but it didn’t stop him. Neither of the two boys slowed down until they were ages away from the source of the noise; Iwaizumi collapsed on the ground, while Oikawa leaned against a tree, shaking uncontrollably.

   “What,” Iwaizumi said breathlessly, “the fuck was THAT?”

   “I don’t know,” Oikawa panted. “I have n-no idea, I’ve n-never heard anything like it…”

   “We need to get the hell out of here,” Iwaizumi said, attempting to stand. He made it to his feet, but his legs were trembling. “Come on… we need to get the hell out…”

   Oikawa nodded soundlessly, but didn’t move from the tree. “Come on,” Iwaizumi repeated, grabbing hold of his arm. “Come on, let’s go. Before it decides to follow us.”

   This seemed to be enough to get Oikawa moving, and he allowed Iwaizumi to lead him away from the tree. With a little bit of help from the compass, which was now working as it should be, they were able to find their way out of the forest, and back to the street they had entered from. They emerged back onto the road, and Oikawa, who hadn’t said a word to him the whole way back, turned to Iwaizumi and said:

   “Are—are you alright?”

   “Y-Yeah,” he said, still a little out of breath. “I’m fine, I just… are you? Are you alright? You were really shaken up.”

   He nodded. “Yeah. I’m… I’m sorry, Iwa-chan. I thought that I was going to be able to handle whatever we found. I was wrong, I was so wrong. I’m so sorry.”

   “It’s okay,” Iwaizumi reassured him. “No one could have handled that, that was… insane. I’m actually not a hundred percent sure it just happened. It’s okay to be shaken up.”

   Oikawa nodded, but his blank stare remained. “… Where do you live?” Iwaizumi asked. “I’ll walk you home.”

   “It’s… it’s 3-5-6 Hanaburi, Kushiro,” Oikawa said quietly. “It’s not too far from here.”

   “Hanaburi?” Iwaizumi said, surprised. “That’s…not all that far from where I live. That works out great, I guess.”

   He nodded again, and they began walking. Neither one of them spoke; Iwaizumi assumed that Oikawa was just as shaken by what had happened as he was.

   _I feel bad,_ Iwaizumi thought. _He spends his whole life looking for aliens, and then when he finally finds one… we run away. But, it was really the only sane thing to do, right? We could have been killed if we stuck around any longer._ He replayed the noise in his head; just thinking about it made him shiver. _What was that, though? Was it really an alien? Could they actually, really exist? Whatever that was, it was pretty unexplainable, but… it’s just… it’s impossible. It’s gotta be impossible._

Ten minutes later, they arrived at a small house, down the street from Iwaizumi’s own. Oikawa stopped, and Iwaizumi followed suit.

   “Is this it?” he asked.

   “Uh, yeah,” Oikawa said. This was the most mellow Iwaizumi had ever seen him; it was a bit frightening. “Thanks, Iwaizumi.”

   “… It’s no problem,” he said. “Goodnight, Oikawa.”

   As he turned to leave, a hand gripped his windbreaker sleeve, and Iwaizumi turned around. Oikawa was reaching out, clearly trying to hide his fear, but failing. His pupils were dilated, and Iwaizumi could see him flushing.

   “Look, um, Iwaizumi,” he said quietly. “If you don’t really have to go, um… if you could… I mean, I don’t want to impose, but would you…?”

   “Stay?” Iwaizumi asked softly.

   Oikawa’s grip on his windbreaker slackened. “Yeah,” he whispered. “Stay.”

   Iwaizumi hesitated. “… We have school tomorrow.”

   “Yeah,” Oikawa said, and Iwaizumi could see him shrinking away; it made the muscles in his chest twinge. “We do.”

   “I’m sorry,” Iwaizumi said; he meant it. “I just, I don’t know what I’d tell my mom—“

   “It’s okay,” Oikawa insisted, holding up his hands. “It’s fine. I’m just being paranoid.”

   “Yeah,” Iwaizumi said. “Well—no, I mean, you’ll be ok. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

   He nodded, and Iwaizumi turned back towards his own house. From behind him, he heard Oikawa’s voice say:

   “Goodnight, Iwa-chan.”

   He hesitated for a moment, before smiling to himself, and replying: “Goodnight, Oikawa.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last "short" chapter, AKA under 5,000 words (I think). But I might have said that in the last chapter, too. Anyway, the next chapter is fucking 10,000 words, so that will make up for it (sorry guys). As usual, staying on the "every other week" schedule, which seems to be working out fine. Thanks for your support, y'all!  
> Some quick, shameless plugs:  
> My tumblr: @sailor-rinn  
> My other fanfic, which you should check out regardless of whether or not you've seen Love Live!: http://archiveofourown.org/works/5784499
> 
> REGARDING the Love Live fic: It WILL be updated within the next week or two, I'm dead serious. The chapter's halfway written, and the rest is outlined, so I just need to put it down on paper. Cheers, mate.


	4. Agents T and H

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iwaizumi would have better luck trying to talk the sun out of rising than trying to talk Oikawa Tooru out of anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As fate would have it, I misunderestimated the amount of words this was. Only 6,000, but still longer than the last one. Anyway, here is part 4 of Iwaizumi's suffering.

   The alien dreams returned that night. This time, it wasn’t Nekoma that were the aliens, but random people at school. They melded into strange grey humanoids, who screamed at him in their awful voices, and that sound returned, playing louder and louder the more Iwaizumi tried to get away. And Oikawa was there, but he was under their control, luring Iwaizumi out of his hiding spots, and back into their clutches…

   He awoke in a sweat, panting and grasping at his sheets. Whatever this sign was, it wasn’t a good one.

   However, this time, he was successfully able to get back to sleep, and awoke in the morning refreshed, if not still a little shaky. When he went downstairs, his mother was sitting in the kitchen, sipping a mug of tea.

   “Are you alright, Hajime?” she asked, looking up. “You were home late last night. Did something happen at practice?”

   “Oh, yeah,” he said. “One of the first years is having some trouble with his serves, so I’ve been staying late to coach him. I completely forgot to tell you, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

   “It’s alright,” she said. “As long as you’re safe. Will you be coaching him again?”

   “Yeah, probably,” he said. “I’ll send you a text message though, so you know where I am, okay?”

   “Thank you, Hajime,” she said. “Be careful walking home, though okay? You never know when you’re going to run into weirdos.”

   _You really don’t,_ he thought to himself.

\--

   When he returned to school the next morning, Oikawa was waiting by his locker. _How the hell did he know which one that was?_ he thought.

   “Iwa-chan!” he said, waving excitedly. Whatever melancholy he had fallen into the night before seemed to have disappeared, and Oikawa was almost _frustratingly_ chipper. “Good morning! Did you sleep well?”

   “… How did you find me?” he asked, looking between Oikawa and his locker.

   “That doesn’t matter,” Oikawa said dismissively, waving his hand in Iwaizumi’s direction. “Anyway, I was doing some thinking last night, and I’ve decided we need to return to the scene of the crime.”

   He really _was_ capable of doing a complete 180, Iwaizumi thought. “Are you out of your mind?” he said. “I don’t know if we had two different hallucinations last night, but whatever was in those woods wanted to _kill us._ I’m not going back in there.”

   “We don’t KNOW it wanted to kill us!” Oikawa protested. “Maybe it was trying to ask for help or something, and we ran! Maybe that was just its voice!”

   “You’re way too trusting,” Iwaizumi said. “And it’s gonna get us both killed. I’m not going back.”

   “What is it, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa cooed. “Chicken?”

   “Are you stupid?” he demanded. “I don’t want to DIE.”

   Oikawa tucked his fists into his sides, and proceeded with an especially obnoxious impression of a chicken walking, complete with dramatized head-bobbing. “Iwa-chan is a chicken! Chicken, chicken, chicken, chicken!”

   “Oikawa Tooru, you are TWELVE,” Iwaizumi snapped. “Fine. If you really think that it’s worth going back, I suppose you ARE the expert, so let’s get it over with and go. But I have a volleyball match tomorrow, so you’re going to have to wait.”

   “I’ll wait as long as it takes!” Oikawa said brightly. Iwaizumi couldn’t help but be simultaneously impressed and annoyed by his un-dimmable cheerfulness. “Who’s your match against tomorrow, Iwa-chan?”

   “Ougiminami,” he said flatly. “They’re not going to be a problem. We’ve beaten them before.”

   “Good luck!” he said. “I’ll be cheering for you!”

   Iwaizumi couldn’t help but smile a bit. “Thanks.”

                                                                             --                                            

   When he returned home from practice that night, Iwaizumi was exhausted. Something about the combination of exhausting physical activity and any amount of time spent in the presence of Oikawa Tooru really took the wind out of him. He collapsed on his bed, and pulled the covers up over his head.

   _This is not what I needed on top of entrance exams,_ he thought. Aliens; of all things, _aliens._ Aliens AND Oikawa Tooru, nonetheless. Iwaizumi couldn’t tell which one was stranger.

   For a moment, he lay motionless under the covers, then reached out to grab his phone.

 

   To: Hanamakki

_Do you believe in aliens?_

It was a stupid question, Iwaizumi thought, but he needed to hear someone else’s ideas. Oikawa was clouding his thoughts with his nonsense. A message came in a couple of minutes later:

   [Hanamakki Takahiro] _I dunno, maybe. Why do you ask?_

_Just something that I was thinking about on the way home. It’s nothing, really._

[Hanamakki Takahiro] _Are you okay? Seriously, Hajime, you’ve been acting weird._

He hesitated. Had he really been acting THAT out of the normal? Surely, this hadn’t affected him _that_ much. Maybe he’d been quieter?

 

   _I’m fine, what do you mean?_

   [Hanamakki Takahiro] _I dunno. I guess I’m reading too much into it. But get it together for the match tomorrow, huh? We can’t afford to lose this early._

_I know. We won’t lose. I’ll make sure of it._

   [Hanamakki Takahiro] _Good. Get some rest, captain ;)_

Iwaizumi set his phone back down, his nerves somewhat calmed. Maybe there were aliens, and spaceships, and freak close encounters with the third kind, and _Oikawa Tooru,_ but there was also Hanamakki, and his team, and volleyball, and that was enough to keep him grounded. He laid back against the pillows of his bed; right now, he had a match to think about.

\--

   Just as he’d hoped, the promise of a match was exactly what Iwaizumi needed to get him back to earth. The next morning, they gathered around in the locker room, shoulder to shoulder, and Iwaizumi leaned in.

   “Everyone,” he said. “It’s the first match of the inter-high preliminaries. We’ve beaten Ougiminami before, hands-down. This isn’t going to be any trouble for us, but that doesn’t mean we can let our guard down, either. Keep a look out for #1, Yoshiki. He’s the captain and wing spiker, and arguably the best player on the team. We’re good, but that doesn’t mean we can just charge blindly into every match expecting to win.”

   There was a series of nods. “Good,” he said. “Now, I want to see you guys giving it your all. For yourselves, for each other, for the team, and for Aobo Johsai.” He put his hand out, and all the players followed suit. “Aoba Johsai, fight!”

   “FIGHTING!” the players echoed, throwing their hands up into the air.

   “Let’s go!” Iwaizumi ordered, a rush of excitement and pride exploding in his chest. “I believe in you all!”

   They flooded onto the court, a sea of white and teal, and a cheer rose from the stand as the other students celebrated their arrival.

   “Fight, fight, fight, Aoba!” they chanted. “Win, win, win, Aoba!”

   Iwaizumi beamed, waving at the stands, and heard a couple of girls scream in excitement. He wasn’t normally this upbeat during matches, and rarely acknowledged the crowd, but he decided he should start doing it more often, because it gave him an excellent response.

   “Hey, careful there, Captain Handsome,” one of the other player’s voices joked. “You’re going to give one of your fangirls a heart attack.”

   Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. “Please. I think you overestimate me.”

   “I dunno…”

   He went to go get into position, and Iwaizumi settled comfortably into his spot. The sounds of the crowd and the whistles worked on his nerves like some sort of therapy. This was something he understood; hit the ball, make sure it doesn’t touch the ground. Score on your opponents. Win. This was where he was himself. Nothing could breech his defenses here.

   “Iwa-chan!”

   Nothing except… _that._

Iwaizumi felt the color drain out of his face like water from a bathtub. Slowly, he looked towards the stands, and there he was. Oikawa Tooru, waving over the railing, and grinning like an idiot. He was surrounded by several members of the sci-fi club, who all looked like they’d rather sit on a pillow stuffed with cacti than watch a sports match. Truly, Iwaizumi thought, there was some club loyalty there.

   “Get ‘em, Iwa-chan!” he yelled, still waving like a total buffoon.

   “… Who is that?” Hanamakki said. “Is he talking to you?”

   Iwaizumi shook his head. “I’ve never seen him before in my life,” he deadpanned.

   Hanamakki continued looking at Oikawa for another second or two, then shrugged, and returned to watching the other team. Iwaizumi meanwhile, turned to Oikawa, and waited until they made eye contact.

   _“I’m going to kill you,”_ he mouthed silently.

   Oikawa just grinned.

\--

   In retrospect, it was _definitely_ a good thing that Ougiminami wasn’t as strong of a team as they were, because the presence of one Oikawa Tooru was just enough to put off Iwaizumi’s game. As though his nickname _Iwa-chan_ wasn’t enough, Oikawa’s very _aura_ seemed to be affecting Iwaizumi’s focus. He found himself half trying to focus completely on the game, half trying to show off to Oikawa. If the bastard had the gall to show up to the match, Iwaizumi was at least going to show him his best; and, for what it was worth, Iwaizumi figured, he did have a couple of great plays. However, the consistent cheers of “Fight, Iwa-chan!” and “Crush them, Iwa-chan!” did put a sizeable dent in his concentration.

   However, they won, and in Iwaizumi’s mind, that was enough. After they had shaken hands and taken some time to cool down, Iwaizumi excused himself to the hall. Sure enough, Oikawa was waiting for him alone, looking disgustingly pleased with himself.

   “What are you doing here?!” Iwaizumi demanded.

   “I came to cheer you on!” Oikawa said defensively. “That’s not a very nice way to greet someone who came all the way out here just for you.”

   Iwaizumi gritted his teeth, and rested his head in one hand. “Thank you,” he said. “But next time, can you not call me Iwa-chan in front of the whole team? It’s weird.”

   “But that’s your name!” he said. “Tell you what, Iwa-chan—you can give me a nickname, too. Anything you want.”

   “Anything I want?”

   “Yep!”

   Iwaizumi paused for a moment, thinking. “I’ll get back to you on that. Anyway, what do you want?”

   “Just to cheer you on!” he said. “… and maybe to set up a date for our next expedition.”

   Iwaizumi sighed. “Of course it was going to come back to that. Alright, when do you want to go? I can’t do tomorrow or Friday.”

   “What about Thursday, then?”

   “Don’t you have club that night?” Iwaizumi asked, frowning.

   “Yoshimori can handle it for a night,” he said dismissively. “He’s my vice-president, I have confidence in him.”

   “Alright, Thursday then,” Iwaizumi said. “What exactly is going to be different about it this time?”

   “Well, first of all, we’re going to know what we’re getting into,” Oikawa said confidently. “No more screaming and running. There’s no time to be scared when the fate of the world is at stake.”

   “If your goal here is to convince me that this is a good idea, you doing a pretty piss-poor job of it.”

   “You’re so _mean,”_ Oikawa whined. “After all I’ve done for you—“

   “WHAT.”

   “You can’t even help me potentially save the world? Come _on,_ Iwa-chan, do it for the good of humanity!”

   Iwaizumi buried his face in his hands, accepting the fact that he was completely steamrolled by the force of nature that was Oikawa Tooru. “Alright, alright,” he said, and Oikawa’s face lit up. “I already said I’d go back, so quit whining. Thursday after practice. Got it?”

   “Got it.”

   With Oikawa appeased, Iwaizumi headed back to the locker room, where the rest of the team was waiting for him.

   “What was keeping you?” Hanamakki asked, tossing him a water bottle.

   “Went make a quick phone call and got caught by one of the other teams,” he lied. They could not know about Oikawa. At least, Hanamakki and Matsukawa DEFINITELY couldn’t. Iwaizumi would never hear the end of it.

   “Did he try to intimidate you?!” he said, instantly jumping into a defensive stance. “Who was it?!”

   “It’s fine, shut up,” Iwaizumi said. “Go take a shower and cool down a little.”

   Hanamakki retreated, and Mizoguchi came up to him.

   “You played well today, Iwaizumi,” he said. “But it looked like you were distracted. What’s been on your mind?”

   “Uh,” Iwaizumi said. He couldn’t keep saying “nothing,” it was going to wear thin. “It’s… just college entrance exams,” he said; that, at least, wasn’t a TOTAL lie. “I’m just worried about getting in and all.”

   “That’s understandable,” Mizoguchi agreed. Iwaizumi let out a silent sigh of relief. “You’re smart, Iwaizumi, you’ll do fine. Just remember to keep a good balance; there are counselors you can talk to if you need help with your academics.”

   “Yes sir,” Iwaizumi said. Mizoguchi went off to scold Kentaro;  probably, Iwaizumi thought, just for being Kentaro. Meanwhile, Hanamakki approached him again.

   “I don’t know what’s wrong, but I know it’s not college entrance exams,” he said seriously. “You might be able to fool Coach Mizoguchi with that, but not me. I know you too well.”

   “Seriously, Takahiro,” Iwaizumi said. “That’s all it is. Worry about yourself, huh? You’ve got them too.”

   Hanamakki eyed him suspiciously, and Iwaizumi knew he could tell he was lying. But there was no way that he was going to tell Hanamakki that he had all but joined the Men in Black with the president of the sci-fi club at his heels.

   “… Alright,” Hanamakki said. “I’ll let it go. But whatever it is, stop worrying about it. Focus on your game, Hajime.”

   “I will,” Iwaizumi assured him. _Trust me, Hanamakki, I wish I could._

_\--_

   School the next morning was suspiciously quiet. Iwaizumi had expected Oikawa to come bouncing up to him the moment he set foot on campus, but no such thing happened. He walked to his locker in peace—a recently unheard of experience, he thought—and busied himself with his books. As he slid his calculus textbook into his bag, he noticed something in the air. A strange smell, but definitely an unpleasant one. Like motor oil. Motor oil, and…

   _Fish._

Panic seized Iwaizumi’s chest, and he looked around wildly for anything unusual. Nothing stood out, but he pressed himself to his locker anyway, half expecting the awful shrieking from the other night to start again. Instead, however, he heard Oikawa’s voice approaching down the hall; through his panic, Iwaizumi figured that it really _was_ only a matter of time until the other boy found him.

   “Iwa-chan!” Oikawa said, oblivious to Iwaizumi’s fear. “Good morning, what are you—“

   He stopped. Iwaizumi could see realization spreading over his face, and he sniffed at the air; the color drained from his face. He looked at Iwaizumi, and whispered:

   “Do… do you smell that?”

   Iwaizumi nodded soundlessly. “Where’s it coming from?” he hissed.

   “I don’t know,” he said. “That way, maybe?”

   He pointed in a direction down the hall, and Iwaizumi squinted, trying to see through the crowd. Iwaizumi looked around, then gestured for Oikawa to follow him, and continued downwards. They made it a few yards before the smell became pointedly identifiable, and Iwaizumi swiveled his head around to identify the source.

   “Over there,” he said. “Look.”

   A group of first-years was standing in the hall, talking quietly amongst each other. One of them noticed Iwaizumi looking at him, and shifted in closer to his group.

   “Holy shit,” Oikawa said. “The aliens are _here,_ Iwa-chan!”

   “Don’t just jump to conclusions,” Iwaizumi hissed. “Maybe they just don’t shower, we don’t know for sure that they’re _aliens.”_

“You recognized the smell INSTANTLY,” Oikawa said. “And so did I. It’s GOTTA be them, Iwa-chan, there’s no other explanation.”

   “We can’t just accuse some random first-years of being aliens,” he said. “… Well, maybe _you_ can, but I have a reputation to worry about.”

   “It’s not as though we just march up to them and say it to their faces,” Oikawa said as though this were obvious. “We need to catch them red-handed.”

   Iwaizumi scowled; he seemed to remember a time where Oikawa had no problem whatsoever accusing random people of being aliens, but he decided to let that drop for now.

   “Fine,” he said. “Suppose they are aliens. How are we supposed to prove that?”

   “Well, you’re awfully good at following people, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa teased. “Surely, you can figure out a way.”

   “I wasn’t following you!” Iwaizumi snapped. This was a bit of a lie, but he didn’t feel like admitting to alien-boy that he had actually been _curious_ about him. “God, you’re impossible. Look, we can’t just go stalking people.”

   “Says who?”

   “Says ME,” Iwaizumi said firmly. “Not without some sort of basis for proof, at the very least.”

   “We can get basis for proof!” Oikawa said. “When we go back tomorrow night!”

   “What makes you think we’re going to find anything?”

   “Faith, Iwa-chan, faith!” Oikawa said brightly. “Have some faith!”

   The only thing Iwaizumi had faith in at this point was his own ability to restrain himself from strangling Oikawa with his bare hands, but even that was slipping. “If we find some sort of evidence that they might be at all connected to this, we’ll give it a shot. Deal?”

   “Deal,” Oikawa said. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, Iwa-chan!”

   He strutted off towards the next hall, leaving Iwaizumi standing alone, drained. Being alone with Oikawa Tooru for any more than thirty seconds was comparable to standing naked in a hurricane. However, Iwaizumi thought, it seemed like he was starting to get used to it.

\--

   As practice was winding down the next day, Iwaizumi found himself confronted yet again by Hanamakki, who’s natural—if not somewhat misleading—scowl was bearing over him.

   “Hey, Hajime,” he said. “Matsukawa and I were going to go get something to eat after we finish cleaning, do you want to come?”

   “Uh, no thanks,” Iwaizumi said. “I’ve got a lot of work tonight I have to finish.”

   “Suit yourself,” Hanamakki said with a shrug. “But take it easy every one and a while, Iwaizumi. You’re stressing yourself out.”

   “Thanks, Hanamakki,” he said. “I will.”

   He left, and Iwaizumi finished packing his clothes and dirty uniform into his gym bag. During the last twenty minutes of practice, a feeling of fear had settled deep into Iwaizumi’s bones. He had put on a brave face in front of Oikawa because like _hell_ he was going to show fear in front of alien-boy, but Iwaizumi was nervous. Scared. Whatever they had come almost face-to-face with the previous night didn’t seem very friendly, and although Iwaizumi rarely found himself in situations where he was genuinely frightened, the prospect of death by extraterrestrial was suddenly all too real.

   He took a deep breath; _Volleyball, Hajime,_ he thought. _Focus on volleyball. Dumbass and his aliens can wait until I leave the building._

   The other players drained slowly from the building, and Iwaizumi took his time packing up the last of his things. Finally, he decided it was time to surrender to the inevitable, and headed for the door.

   “Iwa-chan,” a voice greeted him. Iwaizumi jumped; “What was taking you so long?”

   Oikawa was leaning against the wall of the building, looking exited.

   “Don’t just sit outside of the building and scare me like that,” Iwaizumi snapped.

   “Lighten up, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said. “You’re too uptight.”

   “Of course,” Iwaizumi said blandly. “We’re only hunting for a possibly extraterrestrial being who may or may not be trying to kill us. I’m clearly being illogical.”

   Oikawa rolled his eyes, and handed Iwaizumi a black box out of his bag. “So stubborn. We don’t _know_ they’re trying to kill us. Here, you handle the EMF detector this time.”

   “Sure,” Iwaizumi said, still somewhat begrudgingly. “Come on, let’s get going, before someone from the team decides they forgot something.”

   As they walked, Iwaizumi noticed a change in Oikawa. He seemed distracted, looking at the stars, then at the ground, then off to the side of the road. Every couple of steps, he’d drift closer to Iwaizumi, then swerve back to the right. Finally, he said:

   “Iwa-chan, I need to ask you something.”

   He hesitated. “… Go ahead.”

   Oikawa didn’t look at him, but kept his eyes focused on the road in front of them. “Why are you so reluctant to be seen with me?”

   Iwaizumi didn’t stop, but he did skip a step as he walked, and almost tripped. Personal weakness was something that he had never seen—or, ever really _expected_ to see—from Oikawa. It was incredibly disturbing, in a way, to watch him speak without his ostentatious tone; it reminded Iwaizumi of the first night they had gone into the woods together, and the fear that Oikawa had so reluctantly shown.

   “I…” Iwaizumi stammered, so thrown off by the question that he was unable to summon an answer. “I’m not,” he said lamely.

   “But you obviously _are,”_ Oikawa said, regaining a slight whine to his voice. “You just said it earlier before we left. You didn’t want me around after the game this week. And it’s pretty obvious you don’t want me coming into the gym to find you after practice.”

   Guilt hit Iwaizumi like a freight car. In the back of his mind, maybe, he had considered the idea he’d been brushing off Oikawa, but he could never have anticipated he’d bring it up.

   “Oikawa, that’s not…” he said quietly. “I… I’m sorry. I guess I had just been letting the pressure of the team get to me. There’s a certain… standard I have to live up to, you know?”

   He was silent for a moment. “I guess that standard doesn’t have room for aliens and sci-fi club presidents, huh?”

   _“No,”_ Iwaizumi pleaded. “That’s not what I meant, I... You fit in.” Oikawa looked surprised. “I don’t really know how,” he continued, “but you do. I’m… I’m not ashamed of you.”

   A brief but intense moment of silence passed between them. Then, Oikawa looked over at him, and Iwaizumi could see the reflection of the stars quivering in his eyes, a hundred tiny pinpoints of light in an endless sky. Over the sound of the blood rushing in his ears, he could just barely hear Oikawa’s question:

   “So… I can stay?”

   Iwaizumi nodded, suddenly breathless. “Yeah,” he said. “As long as you’d like.”

   Oikawa’s face melted into a smile that calmed Iwaizumi’s nerves like Novocaine. He couldn’t resist letting the side of his mouth twitch upwards in response, and within seconds, Oikawa returned back to his usual self.

   “We’re here!” he said excitedly, dashing towards the tree line on the side of the road. “Come on, Iwa-chan!”

   Exasperated, Iwaizumi followed him into the woods, where Oikawa took out a flashlight and shined it around. “Do you remember which way we went last time?” he asked.

   Iwaizumi looked up. “The North Star is over there, so… East, I think?”

   “Sounds fine to me,” Oikawa said cheerfully, and headed in that direction with Iwaizumi at his heels.

   “Alright,” Iwaizumi said, holding the EMF detector in front of him. “So, what do we do if we find these aliens?”

   “Assuming they’re friendly, we should try to make contact,” Oikawa said rather matter-of-factly. “God, I hope they are. I can’t wait to be the first one in the club to have alien contact bragging rights.”

   “… Have you guys seriously been discussing bragging rights on alien contact?” Iwaizumi said. “Actually, you know what, don’t answer that. What do we do if they’re NOT friendly?”

   Oikawa paused for a moment. “… We run like hell.”

   “Your planning skills are impeccable,” Iwaizumi said blandly. “For both of our sake, you’d better hope they’re friendly.”

   “They will be!” he said. “Besides, Iwa-chan, they’ll probably take you first anyway.”

   “I swear to god,” Iwaizumi snapped. “If you get me killed trying to track down aliens, I’m going to come back and haunt the _shit_ out of you.”

   Oikawa laughed, and just as he took a deep breath in, the beeping of the EMF wedged in between them. Iwaizumi looked down at it, and out of the corner of his eyes, could see Oikawa whip around to look at him.

   “That was a lot faster than last time,” Iwaizumi said.

   “Maybe we went in a better direction,” he said curiously. “Do you smell anything?”

   Iwaizumi sniffed at the air. “Nope. You?”

   “Not a thing.” Oikawa set his bag down on the ground, and kneeled beside it. From inside, he pulled out what looked like a small camera, and hooked it into his phone.

   “… What is that?” Iwaizumi asked.

   “It’s a thermal imaging camera,” Oikawa said. “Well… sort of. This one just hooks into my phone. I got it after what happened the other night, because I thought it could help us in case of any more possums, but this is the only one I could afford.”

   Iwaizumi paused. “How much did that cost?”

   “Uh,” Oikawa said guiltily. “Please don’t ask me that, Iwa-chan.”

   “Your money…” he said flippantly. “How does this work?”

   “Basically, it picks up on the heat signatures of everything within a two-hundred foot radius, and gives us a temperature reading that’s accurate to a tenth of a degree,” he said. Iwaizumi could _hear_ the pride in his voice. “I’ve always wanted one.”

   “Y’know, most people just want an Xbox,” Iwaizumi said.

   “But an Xbox won’t help me find the aliens,” Oikawa replied happily.

   Iwaizumi couldn’t argue with that. Oikawa opened up the camera on his phone, which lit up in a cacophony of neon-bright colors, mostly blues and greens, and began flickering numbers at them.

   “Oh _god_ yes,” Oikawa gasped.

   “This is like sex to you, isn’t it?” Iwaizumi said flatly.

   “This is _better_ than sex, Iwa-chan.”

   _Weirdo,_ Iwaizumi thought, but followed Oikawa deeper into the woods anyway. Not much changed on the screen; it continued morphing between blue and green as they walked, with occasional patches of yellow hopping across the screen as birds passed by.

   “… Iwaizumi,” Oikawa said. “Come look at this.”

   He gestured down to the screen, and Iwaizumi looked over his shoulder. Through the globs of blue and green, a small yellow square glowed on the ground, some twenty feet in front of them.

   “What is that?” Iwaizumi wondered out loud.

   “I don’t know,” Oikawa said. “It’s too geometric to be an animal. Maybe it’s a lost cellphone?”

   They moved a few feet closer; Oikawa tapped the yellow square, and another number popped up. The upper right-hand corner of the screen now read 29.4 degrees Celsius in small white numbers.

   “It’s still warm,” Iwaizumi remarked.

   Oikawa nodded. “We should be getting close… Keep an eye out, Iwa-chan…”

   He squinted in the darkness, searching for any break in the leaves. Finally, a glimmer of moonlight bounced off something wedged in between the roots of a large maple tree, and Iwaizumi held out his hand to stop Oikawa.

   “Look,” he said. “Right there.”

   Oikawa saw it too, and leaned down to pick up the glimmer. In the silence of the woods, Iwaizumi heard his voice whisper: “Holy shit.”

   When he stood back up again, Oikawa was holding a cube in his hand, a little bit bigger than a softball. He turned on his phone’s flashlight, and they both gasped. The surface of the cube was lightly tarnished silver, scratched by its recent misadventures, but still relatively smooth. Tiny letters in a language that Iwaizumi couldn’t read floated at its edges, and constellation designs continued into the center. A bronze knob was in the center, raised above the surface like a dial, surrounded by more of the strange letters; it was the same on all four sides, except for the changing patterns of letters and constellations.

   “Oikawa,” Iwaizumi said, nearly speechless. “What is this?”

   “I have no idea,” he confessed. “I’ve never seen anything like it in my entire life.” He turned it over in his hand, still in awe. “Iwa-chan, I… I think this is real alien tech.”

   “What do you think it does?”

   “Like I said, I _don’t know,”_ Oikawa said. “It could be a weapon for all I know.”

   “Great,” Iwaizumi grumbled.

   “Here,” Oikawa said, stuffing the cube into Iwaizumi’s hands. “Hold this. I’m going to check over there. You keep looking around here.”

   “Don’t make me hold it--!” Iwaizumi started, but Oikawa was already gone. _Great,_ he thought. _If this thing blows up in my hands, I swear to god…_

“… Oikawa!” Iwaizumi called. “Come get your weird alien box! I don’t want to hold it!”

   He expected Oikawa to tell him to stop being a baby, but there was no answer. A sliver of fear passed across Iwaizumi’s chest.

   “Oikawa?” Iwaizumi called again. “Hey, where the hell are you? Oikawa?”

   There was still no answer. Iwaizumi took a few steps in the direction Oikawa had run off in. “Oikawa,” he said. “This isn’t funny! Oikawa! OIKAWA!”

   He started running, the leaves crunching underneath his heavy footfalls, calling Oikawa’s name.

   “Oikawa! Where are you?!” he yelled. “OIKAWA!”

   His foot kicked something solid, and it went spinning through the crisp air. Iwaizumi scrambled after it, and after a minute of digging through the leaves, pulled out what he realized was Oikawa’s cellphone.

   “Shit,” Iwaizumi whispered. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, _shit…”_

 _The thermal imaging camera,_ he thought suddenly, his hand wrapping around the little box at the bottom of the phone. _I can find him with that._

He clicked the power button on the phone, and it lit up.

**LOCKED**

Enter Passcode

   “FUCK!” Iwaizumi yelled out loud. His voice echoed off the trees, ringing through the empty woods. Silence followed.

   He slumped against a rock, head buried in his hands. _Alright,_ he thought. _What would alien-boy set as his passcode? Something paranormal, obviously, but WHAT…_

Iwaizumi strained his mind for every alien-related event he had ever heard of, anything Oikawa had mentioned even _briefly._ No dates stuck out in his mind, no numbers of any kind.

   _Greys…_ he thought. _I’ll try that._

   He opened the phone again, and on the number pad, tapped “4737.” The phone vibrated, and “INCORRECT PASSCODE, TRY AGAIN,” flashed across the screen.

   _Shit. Think, Hajime, come on… There has to be something else…_

   From his pocket, Iwaizumi produced his own phone, and typed into his search bar:

   _Major alien phenomena_

Instantly, a list popped up. _Bermuda Triangle,_ Iwaizumi read. _Stanford Abductions, Broad Haven, Ronald Reagan—okay—Edwards Air Base… Roswell! Oikawa mentioned Roswell the other day! Roswell… 1947…_

He typed that date into Oikawa’s phone, and to his relief, the passcode prompt disappeared, and it unlocked. The thermal imaging app was still going, and Iwaizumi could see the bright red splotches of his legs.

   _Oh thank god,_ he thought, and jumped to his feet. He moved the camera around, but saw nothing but blue and green.

   “Oikawa!” he called again. “Oikawa, answer me!”

   There was only silence. Iwaizumi spent the next fifteen minutes wandering aimlessly through the woods, desperately checking the camera and calling Oikawa’s name, to no success. Just as he was considering giving up and going to the police, he spotted a mass of orange lying at the bottom of a shallow drop.

   “Oikawa!” he yelled, running over to where the figure lay on the map. As he got clearer, he could make out the white and teal of Oikawa’s t-shirt, and Iwaizumi skidded to a halt, landing on his knees beside Oikawa.

   “Oh _shit,”_ he whispered, gently grabbing Oikawa’s shoulders and pulling him into his lap. The younger boy was cold, but breathing steadily. “Oikawa,” he said. “Oikawa, wake up, come on… Oikawa…”

   Iwaizumi tapped his face, and Oikawa’s eyes and mouth began to twitch.

   “Mm…” he moaned, and Iwaizumi let out a sigh of relief. “I—Iwaizumi…”

   “Can you hear me?” he said. “Oikawa?”

   “Iwa…chan?”

   “Yeah,” Iwaizumi said, unable to resist smiling. “Yeah, it’s me. What happened to you?”

   “I don’t remember,” Oikawa murmured. He tried to shift in Iwaizumi’s lap, with little success, and Iwaizumi helped him sit up a little. “After I went to go look for more clues, I just blacked out. How long has it been?”

   “Twenty minutes, maybe,” Iwaizumi said. “How the hell did you get here?”

   “I told you, Iwa-chan, I don’t know,” he said. “I was running, and then, you were shaking me awake. I don’t remember anything else.”

   “It doesn’t matter now,” Iwaizumi said firmly. “Come on, let’s go home. Can you stand?”

   “The cube—?”

   “I’ve got the cube,” Iwaizumi assured him. “I think someone—or, something, I guess—really wanted it back. I’ve got your phone, too.”

   He nodded submissively, and Iwaizumi stood up. Oikawa attempted to follow suit, but collapsed almost immediately. Fortunately, Iwaizumi was able to catch him before he hit the ground, and said:

   “I take it you’re not walking out of here?”

   Oikawa laughed weakly, and shook his head. “I didn’t think so,” Iwaizumi said. “Here.”

   He slung one of Oikawa’s arms around his shoulders, and lifted Oikawa onto his back. Oikawa may have been taller, but he was very light, Iwaizumi was considerably muscular. Once Oikawa had shifted himself into a comfortable position on Iwaizumi’s back, he slung his arms around the older boy’s neck, and said:

   “Are you sure you’re going to be alright carrying me like this?”

   “I’ll be fine,” Iwaizumi assured him. “You don’t weigh all that much.”

   Oikawa gave him a meek nod, and rested his head on Iwaizumi’s shoulder. Iwaizumi, meanwhile, looked up. Above them, the North Star gleamed to his right.

   “Alright, alien-boy,” Iwaizumi said quietly. “Let’s go home.”

   It took them forty-five minutes to wander their way out of the woods, and back to the street where Oikawa lived, and by about minute number thirty, Iwaizumi could feel his arms starting to grow weak. However, he held himself together, and as they reached Oikawa’s house, he said:

   “We’re here.”

   Oikawa slid off his back, and though he was able to stand, it was awkward and wobbly, like a day-old calf trying to take its first steps. Iwaizumi caught him again, and supported him with one shoulder.

   “Come on,” he said. “Do you want me to…?”

   “My parents aren’t home,” Oikawa murmured. “No one will… question it…”

   Iwaizumi nodded and helped Oikawa walk to the door. He pulled a set of keys out of his pocket, and clumsily unlocked the front door.

   “My room is on the second floor,” he said, putting the keys back in his pocket.

   Iwaizumi nodded, and together, they walked up the front stairs. In the dark, Iwaizumi wasn’t able to see very much, but it seemed like a nice house. As they stepped onto the landing, Oikawa directed him to the room right in front of him, and Iwaizumi opened the door.

   A light came on as they stepped inside, making Iwaizumi jump. Oikawa’s bedroom was exactly as Iwaizumi had imagined; the walls were plastered with movie posters, both American and Japanese, for everything from _Alien_ to _The Grudge._ Books and figurines were stacked everywhere, and the bed in the middle of the room was still messy. A cork board covered in newspaper articles and pictures connected by red string was hanging above it.

   “Here,” Iwaizumi said, helping Oikawa lay down. “Now go to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

   Oikawa nodded, and buried himself deeper into the sheets. As Iwaizumi turned to leave, he heard him say:

   “Goodnight, Iwa-chan.”

   He stopped in the frame of the door. “… Goodnight, Oikawa.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't kidding about the Arby's thing.  
> Anyway, two things:  
> First, Placebo has updated--thank you to everyone who's left comments (and on this work too)! They mean so much to me ;A;  
> Second, I've changed the update days to this fic to Sundays for logistical reasons. So that means chapter four is out three days early! Yay!  
> Ok, technically, it's Monday here, but whatever.


	5. Black and White

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a talented athlete, there are a lot of time when Iwaizumi Hajime seems to miss what's right in front of his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY SHIT GUYS I TOTALLY FORGOT TO UPLOAD THIS LAST NIGHT IM SO SORRY  
> It's a good thing I remembered I have homework due tomorrow, or I might have forgotten again. Anyway, enjoy the IwaOi.

   When Iwaizumi woke up the next morning, a message from Hanamakki was waiting for him:

 

   [Hanamakki Takahiro]   _Hey, Mizoguchi’s sick, and he said to just go ahead and take a day off. Get some rest, captain._

Iwaizumi let out a sigh; while it would be nice to have a day off to rest, he had been counting on volleyball as his rock in times of extraterrestrial panic.

   He pulled himself out of bed, taking a moment to enjoy the grounding sensation of his feet hitting the cold wooden floor. As he made his way to his dresser, Iwaizumi noticed the cube they had discovered the previous night sitting on his dresser. He gingerly picked it up and looked it over; now that he held it, he noticed that it was rather heavy, but it seemed to be hollow. The brass ball on the side he was holding pressed inwards under his hand, and Iwaizumi jumped. Nothing happened, but he examined one of the other knobs anyway; they pressed in easily, and could be turned, making a click as they went around.

   “It’s like a puzzle box,” he muttered.

   Iwaizumi played around with the box for a few more minutes before setting it in his bag and getting dressed; Oikawa would probably want to see it at school today. He jogged downstairs, where his mother was brewing a mug of tea for herself.

   “Good morning, Hajime,” she said. “Did you sleep well?”

   “Yeah, thanks,” Iwaizumi said, taking a cold omelet out of the fridge. “Practice was cancelled today, so I’ll be home a little earlier than usual.”

   “Why was it cancelled?” his mother asked, concerned. “Is everything alright?”

   “It’s fine, Coach Mizoguchi just wasn’t feeling well, so he gave us the day off,” he said.

   “Alright,” she said. “I’ll make agedashi tofu for dinner tonight, then. Be home by around six, okay?”

   “I will,” Iwaizumi assured her, half-smiling. “Thanks, mom.”

\--

   Just as Iwaizumi had expected, he hadn’t ten feet into the doors of Aoba Johsai high school when he heard a familiar voice call out:

   “Iwa-chan!”

   Oikawa appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, beaming. “Are you alright?” Iwaizumi asked instinctively. The last time he’d seen Oikawa, he hadn’t exactly been in peak condition.

   “I’m better than ever,” he said cheerfully. “All I needed was some rest. What about you? Did you sleep alright?”

   “Yeah, I’m fine,” Iwaizumi assured him. “Do you remember any of what happened to you?”

   “Not a thing,” he said. “It’s all black. Did you bring that thing we found last night?”

   “Oh, yeah,” Iwaizumi said, pulling the cube out of his backpack and handing it to Oikawa. “Here.”

   Oikawa turned the cube over in his hands, playing with the knobs like Iwaizumi had. “Hey,” Iwaizumi said. “Should you really be playing with it like that? We don’t know what that thing does, it could be dangerous.”

   “You worry too much,” he said. “It’s not gonna do anything.”

   He slipped it into his own bag, and turned his attention back to Iwaizumi. “Well, I hope you don’t have any plans for today, because I’ve got some for you.”

   Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow. “And what are those?”

   “Remember those first years?” Oikawa said. “We’ve gotta follow them. I’m almost positive they’re involved in all this.”

   “Oikawa, seriously,” Iwaizumi said, rolling his eyes. “We have no proof these people are _aliens,_ we can’t just go following them around.”

   “They’re the best lead we’ve got!” he said. “I mean, what’s YOUR idea, Iwa-chan?”

   “I don’t have one, and that’s perfectly fine!” he yelled. “What happens if they see us?”

   “I can talk us out of anything!” Oikawa said confidently. “Besides, I heard some of the other volleyball players saying that practice is cancelled today, so I know you have no excuse.”

   Iwaizumi bit his tongue. _Dammit, how does he KNOW everything?_ “Fine,” he said. “But if we get caught and go to jail or something, this is all on you.”

   “Fine by me,” Oikawa said, and his confidence made Iwaizumi twitch. “I’ll see you after class, Iwa-chan!”

   He bounded off, leaving Iwaizumi dazed in front of his locker.

   _Oikawa Tooru,_ he thought, shaking his head, _you are going to be the death of me._

_\--_

When class let out later that day, Iwaizumi was not surprised to walk out of the door, only to find Oikawa leaning against the wall, looking at his phone, and waiting on Iwaizumi to appear. Nearby, a group of girls were whispering and pointing at him; at first, Iwaizumi wasn’t sure what they were looking at, but then, it occurred to him, Oikawa Tooru was _handsome._ But he spent most of his time locked in a classroom with alien figures and horror movies, so it wasn’t all that surprising that he wasn’t all that well-known.

   “Hey, Shittykawa,” he said flatly. “Let’s go.”

   Oikawa looked up, excited, but his face melted as he realized what Iwaizumi had said. “Shittykawa?!” he demanded. “Iwa-chan, that’s so mean! Why would you call me that?”

   “You said I could pick a nickname for you, since you get to call me Iwa-chan,” he said, not changing his tone. “So you’re Shittykawa now.”

   “BUT—“

   “You said it could be ANYTHING I wanted,” Iwaizumi said, raising an eyebrow in Oikawa’s direction. Next to them, the group of girls had stopped chattering, and were starting to wander off, disappointed. _You’ll thank me later, don’t worry,_ Iwaizumi thought.

   “Oh, FINE,” Oikawa pouted. “You’re mean, Iwa-chan. I show you nothing but my best favor and attention—“

   “That is NOT true.”

   “… And this is how you repay me?” Oikawa said, ignoring him outright. “So rude. Come on, we’ve got a mission.”

   He started down the hall, Iwaizumi close on his heels. “How exactly are you planning to carry out this mission, huh?” he asked.

   “Well, I know from experience that the three of them tend to stick around a little later after school,” Oikawa said, counting things off on his fingers. “Maybe twenty minutes or so, which means we have some time to find them. Next, I know that their last class in in C building, so if we wait outside, we’ll definitely catch them leaving. After that, we just follow them at a safe distance, and wait to catch them red-handed!”

   “You have a very idyllic picture of how this is going to go,” Iwaizumi said flatly.

   “A little optimism now and then won’t kill you, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa replied cheerfully. “Anyway, you’re already experienced at stalking people, so this shouldn’t be too much of a problem for you!”

   Iwaizumi sighed. “For the last time, I wasn’t STALKING you,” he said angrily. “If you had some weirdo jump out of the woods at you and tell you they were hunting for aliens, you’d be curious about them too.”

   Oikawa smiled innocently. “You were curious about me?”

   “Curious as to how you escaped whatever asylum was supposed to be keeping an eye on you.”

   “You’re so _mean,”_ Oikawa complained. “We’re here now, so let’s just wait and see if they come out.”

   They parked themselves on a bench outside of the building, and Oikawa pretended to be intensely interested in a bird who was picking bits of rice out of one of the trashcans. Iwaizumi busied himself with his phone, and tried not to think about the hundreds of ways that this could go horribly wrong.

   Ten minutes passed, and Iwaizumi was starting to feel like this was all a waste of time. Suddenly, Oikawa pinched his arm, making him jump.

   _“What?”_ he hissed, rubbing his arm. Oikawa pointed to the door, where the first-years were emerging. He stood up, taking out his own phone and pretending to type something, and Iwaizumi followed suit. They waited for the trio to get about ten yards away, and slowly began to follow.

   They did their best to make casual conversation as they walked, as not to appear suspicious. Oikawa asked Iwaizumi about his classes, about volleyball, about college, and Iwaizumi tried to keep his answers short and simple. He made the mistake of asking Oikawa about his favorite alien movie, which led to a solid ten minutes of in-depth analysis of _Alien_ versus _Alien 2,_ and although Iwaizumi didn’t get a word of what he was saying, it did take up enough time for them to arrive at the station.

   The first-years had not spoken. The three of them walked in silence all the way to the train station, without so much as a glance back at Iwaizumi and Oikawa. In a way, Iwaizumi figured, that was probably a good thing, but it was rather strange.

   They waited at the station, and Iwaizumi and Oikawa did as well. They stopped talking now, turning their attention instead to their phones, and waited for the train to arrive.

   Fortunately, their timing was good, and within a minute, they were onboard. The first years had still not spoken a word; it was starting to creep Iwaizumi out. Why walk home together if they weren’t friends?

   After about fifteen minutes, the train stopped for the third time, and the three first-years got off, with Oikawa and Iwaizumi scrambling to keep up. They walked a few yards in close proximity, before the first years came to a dead stop, and Iwaizumi almost ran into Oikawa as the taller boy skidded to a halt.

   For a moment, there was a tense silence. Then, one of the first years, who had spiky black hair, turned around and said:

   “What do you two want?”

   Iwaizumi’s chest seized up, and he could see Oikawa starting to get nervous as well. “Uh,” Oikawa said. “We’re going to the store.”

   “By so conveniently following behind us?”

   “Coincidence,” he said quickly.

   “Really?” the first-year said. He wasn’t taller than Oikawa by any means, but the look on his face could melt steel; Iwaizumi could see Oikawa fighting an inner battle of fight-or-flight.

   “Yes!”

   He frowned, and crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t know if I believe you.”

   “W-Well,” Oikawa said, rummaging around in his bag. “Maybe THIS will change your mind!”

   Before Iwaizumi could even realize what was happening, let alone stop him, Oikawa had snatched the cube from the inner pockets of his bag, and held it up to the first-years with a flourish. The three of them and Iwaizumi stood frozen in shock, staring at Oikawa, who looked like he’d just played the winning move a world-champion chess match.

   _This idiot’s going to get us arrested,_ Iwaizumi thought.

   However, once the initial confusion wore off, the first-years just stared at Oikawa, unimpressed.

   “… What is that?” asked the black-haired first-year, who seemed to be the leader of the group.

   “Like you don’t recognize it!” Oikawa scoffed. “We found this in the woods that other day! Now we want to know what it does!”

   He continued to look at Oikawa, then picked the cube up and examined it.

   “Uh… Is it a puzzle box?” he asked, turning it over in his hands.

   “It looks like it’s a prop from a sci-fi movie,” another one said, peering over his shoulder. “Where did you say you found it?”

   “T-The woods,” Oikawa said. Iwaizumi could see him slowly starting to deflate.

   “I mean…” the first-year said. “It’s cool and all, but I’ve never really seen anything like it. If this was all you wanted to ask, why did you follow us?”

   Oikawa opened his mouth to respond, but Iwaizumi clamped a hand over it, and shoved him out of the way. “Sorry about that,” he said. “We honestly didn’t mean to frighten you. He’s a little, uh, _persistent,”_ he continued, giving them a suggestive nod. They continued to stare at him. “So, yeah, sorry this was all such an ordeal, but thanks for taking a look at it. You all, uh, get home safe.”

   They looked at each other, shrugged, then walked off without another word. Iwaizumi, meanwhile, dragged Oikawa backwards around the side of the train station, before releasing his mouth.

   _“Iwa-chan!”_ Oikawa whined in the _exact_ tone of voice Iwaizumi had been expecting. “Why did you let them go?!”

   “Shittykawa, they had no idea what you were talking about!” Iwaizumi snapped. “All we were doing is freaking them out, we’re lucky they didn’t call the police on us! And what the HELL were you thinking, pulling the cube out like that?! You’re gonna TELL people we have that?! We don’t even know what it DOES!”

   “I was expecting them to react differently!” Oikawa said defensively. “I was so sure that they’d freak out when they saw it, okay?! I didn’t think they’d just brush it off!”

   “We don’t even know what this _is,”_ he hissed, snatching the cube out of Oikawa’s hands. “It could be harmless, or it could be a weapon to blow up the WHOLE DAMN SOLAR SYSTEM. In other words, until we figure it out, THIS stays with ME.”

   He tucked it into his bag, ignoring the very miffed looks that Oikawa was giving him. “Anyway, now that we’re—mostly—out of danger of being arrested,” Iwaizumi said, “let’s get out of here.”

   “Fine,” Oikawa agreed. “But know that you’re a buzzkill, Iwa-chan.”

   “I can live with that.”

\--

   Much to his surprise, when Iwaizumi arrived at school the following day, Oikawa was nowhere in sight. In fact, he didn’t hear a word from the other boy all day, and it kept him distracted at practice that afternoon.

   “Iwaizumi,” Hanamakki’s voice said. “Everything alright?”

   “Yeah,” he said. “You keep asking that, the answer’s not going to change.”

   “Just waiting on you to tell the truth,” he said flatly. Iwaizumi frowned. “Anyway, have you considered maybe you need some time off? You’re not yourself.”

   “I’m fine,” Iwaizumi assured him. “Seriously, Hanamakki. I appreciate it, but I can’t leave the team right now, not with the tournament coming up and all.”

   “What the team needs is for you to be _present,”_ Hanamakki said firmly. “I’m your vice-captain, Hajime, it’s my job to cover you. If you’re out of focus, so is everyone else.”

   Iwaizumi sighed. “I’m sorry. Look, just—wait until tomorrow. I’ll get some rest tonight, and tomorrow, you won’t even think twice about me. Okay?”

   “Alright,” Hanamakki said. “But if you’re still out there, I’m making you take time off. You’re gonna work yourself to death.”

   Iwaizumi nodded complacently, and Hanamakki walked off to help finish cleaning. _Dammit,_ he thought. _I need to keep my head. The team comes first. The team will ALWAYS come first._

As the other players filed out, Iwaizumi noticed someone coming _in._ Oikawa appeared in the doorway, brushing past the other players on their way out. Most ignored him, but some of them gave him strange looks, and he returned them with his signature shit grin. He waved to Iwaizumi, and for a split second, Iwaizumi was going to tell him to go away, but then he remembered what Oikawa had said the other night about Iwaizumi being ashamed of him, and immediately resolved to shut his mouth.

   “Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said pleasantly as he approached him. “How was practice?”

   “Successful,” Iwaizumi said.

   “Good,” Oikawa said, but he sounded mildly disinterested. “You know, even though we’re so well-known, I’ve never really seen any of the volleyball matches, or know any of the players,” he mused. “Which, is kind of a shame. They’re cute.”

   Iwaizumi noticed him looking at Matsukawa, who was talking to Hanamakki, and frowned. “Please don’t flirt with my players,” he said flatly. “They’re supposed to be training for the tournament.”

   “That’s what you question?” Oikawa asked, almost a little miffed. “Not, ‘Tooru, you’re in GUYS?’ but instead, you tell me to back off your players? So rude!”

   “Shittykawa, I could believe that you flirt with anything that moves,” Iwaizumi said, not at all phased by Oikawa’s whining. “You’re totally shameless, water is wet, the sun rises in the east, what else is new.”

   “WELL,” Oikawa said, offended. “I was GOING to ask if you wanted to walk home together, but now that I know how you feel…”

   “Fine by me,” he replied blandly. He had become immune to Oikawa’s various attempts at getting what he wants. “I might as well practice my serves for a little while, anyway.”

   Oikawa frowned sharply, clearly displeased that he could no longer sway Iwaizumi so easily. “I… I want to learn.”

   “… Learn what?” Iwaizumi asked.

   “Volleyball,” Oikawa said. “I want to learn to play volleyball.”

   “Really?” Iwaizumi said, crossing his arms over his chest. “You want to learn how to play volleyball?”

   “Yes!” Oikawa insisted, folding his arms as well.

   “Have you ever played?”

   Oikawa frowned. “Well, no.”

   “Ever played any sports at all?”

   His frown deepened. “… No.”

   Iwaizumi heaved a sigh, and let his arms relax to his sides. “Fine. But don’t mess up the gym too much, we just finished cleaning.”

   Oikawa grinned uncontrollably, bounding into the gym and pulling off the white blazer that was part of the Aoba Johsai boys’ uniform. He looked utterly awkward and out-of-place running around the gym still in his button-down and slacks, beaming like an idiot.

   “You can’t play in those clothes!” Iwaizumi yelled. “Don’t you have anything else?”

   “No,” he said lightly. “Can’t I borrow something from you, Iwa-chan?”

   Iwaizumi sighed, running a hand down his face. “… Fine. Let me see if I have anything that’s clean.”

   He rummaged through his bag as Oikawa continued to wander around the gym, and was able to find a clean t-shirt and pair of shorts that might fit him.

   “Here,” Iwaizumi said; Oikawa looked up, and Iwaizumi tossed the clothes to him. “Go see if these fit.”

   “Thanks, Iwa-chan,” he said pleasantly, and immediately began stripping down in the middle of the gym.

   Iwaizumi made a short noise of disgust. “Don’t just start taking your damn clothes off!” he yelled. “There’s a changing room for that!”

   “There’s no one else here,” Oikawa said dismissively. “Besides, what do YOU care?”

   “I don’t,” Iwaizumi snapped. “I take it back, actually. Go ahead, do whatever you want.”

   Oikawa smirked at his victory, and continued to change as Iwaizumi stared determinedly at the wall.

   “Alright, Iwa-chan, you can look,” Oikawa said. “I’m decent again.”

   The clothes Iwaizumi had lent him fit, but although Oikawa was slightly taller than Iwaizumi, he was much more slender, and the t-shirt and shorts hung on him like drapery. It was just a little bit humorous.

   “Fine,” Iwaizumi said, picking a ball up off the cart. “Here.”

   He tossed it in Oikawa’s direction, maybe a little harder than he should have, but Oikawa caught it flawlessly, much to Iwaizumi’s surprise.

   “What now?” he asked.

   “Uh,” Iwaizumi said, still surprised by Oikawa’s reflexes. “I guess I’ll show you how to serve… Come here…”

   To Iwaizumi’s continued surprise, Oikawa turned out to be more than half-decent at volleyball. Or, at least, at serves. He had good hand-eye coordination, and a powerful swing, but he couldn’t quite figure out how to control it. Several ceiling lights nearly payed the ultimate price for this, and after incident number four, Iwaizumi decided his nerves could no longer handle Oikawa’s potential for destruction.

   “Okay, okay,” he said, holding out his hands. “Quit it, before you bring the whole building to the ground.”

   Oikawa looked up in mid-serve, surprised. “Already?” he said. “But I was just—“

   “It’s getting late,” Iwaizumi said firmly. “Come on, let’s go.”

   Oikawa relented, throwing the ball back into the cart on the other side of the gym. “Help me clean up,” Iwaizumi said. “Start putting the balls away, and I’ll do a quick run with the mop.”

   Cleaning didn’t take long between the two of them, and as Oikawa finished putting the lock on the supply closet, Iwaizumi packed the last of his things into his bag.

   “You can hold onto those,” he said to Oikawa in regards to his borrowed clothes. “Just bring them back to me tomorrow.”

   “Thanks, Iwa-chan,” he said. “I will.”

   They walked outside, and Iwaizumi shivered a little bit; he had forgotten it was still cold out. Next to him, Oikawa was apparently unaffected, still slightly pink in the face from his workout. He had talent, Iwaizumi had to admit it; for someone who spent most of their time locked in the dark, researching alien conspiracies and probably living on instant noodles, Oikawa wasn’t half-bad. Especially for a beginner.

   “So I was thinking,” Oikawa said, jarring Iwaizumi out of his thoughts. “Now that we have that cube, we should definitely go back to the woods tomorrow night. If that was there, who knows what else was lying around—“

   “No,” Iwaizumi said, holding up his hands. Oikawa looked surprised. “Just hold on a minute, slow down. You need a break, _we_ need a break.”

   “From what?”

   “From _WHAT?_ ” Iwaizumi demanded. “Shittykawa, I don’t know where you’ve been for the past two weeks, but we’ve almost died at _least_ twice, and last time, you really pushed the line. You need a break from near-death, and I need a break from saving you. My brain is just not as ready as yours to accept the existence of extraterrestrials. It’s stressing me out a little bit.”

   “Well… alright then,” Oikawa said. Iwaizumi was surprised he let up that easily; maybe he was finally starting to see sense. “What do you want to do instead?”

   “What do you mean?”

   “I mean, y’know…” Oikawa said. “Can I still see you?”

   Iwaizumi gaped at him, taken aback. “Do you _want_ to?” he blurted out.

   _“Obviously,”_ Oikawa said offhandedly. “You’re my friend, you know, Iwa-chan.”

   “Oh,” Iwaizumi said quietly. “I mean… yeah, of course. Yeah. What do you want to do?”

   Oikawa thought for a moment, earthy-brown eyes pointed upwards to the stars. “Hmm…” he wondered out loud. “Maybe a movie?”

   “Like, at a theater?”

   “Uh,” Oikawa said, turning a little red. “I kind of spent all my money on that camera…”

   “So, my house then?”

   He looked surprised. “If that’s okay, then sure.”

   “Yeah, it’s no problem,” Iwaizumi said quickly. “My mom’s gonna be out of town tomorrow night anyway, so it’ll work out fine.”

   Oikawa grinned. “Great! What should we watch?”

   Iwaizumi hesitated for a moment, thinking. “Uh… have you ever seen _Godzilla?”_

“The original 1954 Godzilla, the 1955 Godzilla, or the new Godzilla remake that just came out?”

   Oikawa’s unexpected knowledge of Godzilla movies gave Iwaizumi just the slightest rush of satisfaction. “The 1954 one,” he answered. “I mean, any of them, I guess, but that one’s just my favorite.”

   “It’s been on my list for a while, but I hadn’t really gotten around to it,” Oikawa mused. “Sure! That sounds good to me. Can I meet you after practice again?”

   “Yeah,” Iwaizumi said, still a little taken aback. “Of course, sure. Uh, here, let me just give you my cellphone number…”

   He scrawled down his number on a loose piece of paper, and handed it to Oikawa, who tucked it into the front pocket of his bag. “Just text me your number when you get home,” Iwaizumi said. “I’ll let you know if anything changes.”

   “Alright,” Oikawa said. He didn’t seem to concerned with time or date, just with the event. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Iwa-chan!”

   He walked off, and Iwaizumi stood in the intersection, watching him go. Truly, he thought, Oikawa Tooru was a force of nature.

\--

   When he returned home that night, Iwaizumi sat down in bed and pulled out his phone. A text message was waiting for him, from a number he didn’t recognize:

 

    [442014947]  _Iwa-chan!! <3 It is me. (_ _人_ _´З_ _`) Please don’t make my contact name anything mean._

Iwaizumi frowned, and tapped _add to contacts_ above the number _._

_Name: Shittykawa._

With that taken care of, he turned his attention back to what he’d originally taken his phone out for. He pulled up a new message to Hanamakki, and wrote:

 

   _I have another question for you_

Blessedly, Hanamakki was an admirably fast responder, even this late at night, and a few minutes later, he received a message in return.

 

   [Hanamakki Takahiro] _Go for it._

     
   _Is it possible to hate someone so much that you end up falling in love with them?_

For several minutes, there was no reply, and Iwaizumi began to panic. _Maybe I shouldn’t have used the word “love,”_ he thought to himself. _It’s too strong. Like, maybe—a crush? I don’t know. Oh god, I don’t know. Stupid alien-boy, and his stupid nicknames, and his stupid FLIRTING—_

His phone dinged, and it caused Iwaizumi to physically jump. It dinged again, then twice more after that as messages from Hanamakki poured in.

  

    [Hanamakki Takahiro] _LOVE?! So THAT’S what’s been wrong with you! Good god, Hajime, Matsukawa and I thought you were on DRUGS._

   [Hanamakki Takahiro] _But, I mean, I guess. I’m not really an expert on love. Opposite attract? It’s your boner, not mine._

   [Hanamakki Takahiro] _Wait, wait, wait, forget everything I just said. Who is it?! Who do you like?!_

Iwaizumi cursed under his breath. This had almost DEFINITELY been a mistake.

 

   _IT’S NOT ME, STUPID,_ he replied. _I’m just asking for a friend._

   The next reply was almost instant.

 

   [Hanamakki Takahiro] _Sure you are._

“God DAMMIT, Hanamakki,” he said aloud, using his free hand to massage his temples. “I knew I’d never live through this.”

 

   _Look, it doesn’t matter. Just help me, alright?_

[Hanamakki Takahiro] _Fine, fine, but just know that I can see right through you. Is it a girl or a guy?_

Iwaizumi balked. Although he and Hanamakki had been friends for quite some time, Iwaizumi had never really brought up the idea of liking guys. It hadn’t even occurred to _him_ until about six months ago; at first, he thought it had just been a fluke, but he hadn’t been counting on Oikawa Tooru to enter the picture.

 

   _Why do you ask_

Iwaizumi swallowed heavily, not sure of the answer he would receive. Hopefully, Hanamakki wouldn’t mind the idea of him being with a guy. _And please, god, don’t let him tell anybody. Especially Matsukawa._

His phone dinged, and Iwaizumi nearly dropped it in his haste to check the message.

 

   [Hanamakki Takahiro] _I mean, honestly Hajime, I’ve never assumed you were into girls OR guys. I just kind of thought you were really, really into volleyball._

   Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. Typical Hanamakki. However, this was about as good as a reaction that Iwaizumi could have asked for, so he certainly wasn’t about to complain.

 

   _Alright,_ he typed. _Can we do this again? This isn’t really how I pictured telling you._

[Hanamakki Takahiro] _Go for it._

_Hanamakki, I’m into men._  
   …  
   And women, for that matter.

[Hanamakki Takahiro] _I don’t care, as long as you keep playing volleyball._

Iwaizumi let out a long, shaky sigh of relief. That still wasn’t quite how he wanted to do this, but then again, beggars really can’t be choosers, he thought.

 

   _Thanks,_ Iwaizumi wrote. _Glad that’s over with._

[Hanamakki Takahiro] _Me too. But you still haven’t answered my question—guy or girl?_

Of course he wouldn’t be getting off that easily. Iwaizumi sighed, and decided that if he didn’t tell _someone,_ it would eventually kill him, and Hanamakki was the most eligible person for the job.

  

    _It’s a guy. Happy?_

[Hanamakki Takahiro] _WHO_

_IM NOT TELLING YOU_

[Hanamakki Takahiro] _DON’T BE A BUZZKILL_

Suddenly, another message came in. _Wait,_ it read. _Is it that weird guy who was cheering for you from the stands during the Ougiminami match?_

Iwaizumi’s entire body seized up. _No,_ he typed, writing so fast that he stumbled continuously over his words. _I told you, I’ve never seen him before in my life._

[Hanamakki Takahiro] _You’re a really shitty liar, Hajime._

   Iwaizumi let out a quiet, frustrated yell, and let his head fall against the pillows. _Fucking Hanamakki,_ he thought. _Fucking Oikawa._

_I’m going to bed._

[Hanamakki Takahiro] _DON’T BE LIKE THAT HAJIME_

_Goodnight, Hanamakki._

[Hanamakki Takahiro] _I’M GOING TO FIND OUT ONE WAY OR ANOTHER_

Iwaizumi shut his phone off, and set it down to charge at his bedside. Maybe Hanamakki _would_ find out, but that definitely seemed like a problem he could deal with later.

\--

   Just as he had predicted, while Iwaizumi was shifting through his locker the next morning, a pair of running footsteps approached him, and he heard Oikawa’s voice say:

   “Good morning, Iwa-chan!”

   He turned around and almost head-butted Oikawa, who was much closer than Iwaizumi had anticipated. Iwaizumi shoved him back a few feet;

   “Don’t stand so goddamn _close,”_ he snapped. “I can hear you just fine from over there.”

   “Fine, fine,” Oikawa said, relenting to Iwaizumi. “Whatever. Are we still gonna watch Godzilla tonight?”

   “Nothing’s changed for me,” Iwaizumi said flatly.  “Do you still want to?”

   “Obviously!” he said. “Hiro asked if I wanted to go to the showing of _Alien_ tonight, and I turned him down, so you’d better not stand me up!”

   “I’m not going to stand you up,” Iwaizumi reassured him, rolling his eyes. “Just meet me at the gym after practice tonight, okay?”

   “Okay!” he said brightly. “I’ll see you tonight then, Iwa-chan!”

   “See you, Shittykawa.”

   “STOP CALLING ME THAT.”

\--

   The rest of the day passed at a snail’s pace; Iwaizumi could barely pay attention in class, and though he was able to get it together for the day’s practice, it was still rather difficult to focus with Hanamakki shooting him suggestive looks throughout the day. Finally, as 7:30 approached, Iwaizumi held up his hand for the team’s attention.

   “Alright,” he said. “You’re all doing great, but don’t let yourselves fall behind. Our next match is on Monday, and you’ve all got to be in peak condition. I know that we can win, now we just need to prove it to everybody else. Got it?”

   The team chanted their optimisms, and began to disperse. As they began cleaning, Hanamakki approached him, and Iwaizumi groaned silently, knowing _exactly_ where this was going.

   “Not sure how you thought you were going to get away from me, Hajime,” he said.

   “I haven’t really tried yet,” Iwaizumi said flatly.

   “So, tell me about him,” Hanamakki said, leaning against the wall as if he was preparing for a very long story. “This mystery man.”

   “He’s tall, dark, and none of your business,” Iwaizumi said flatly, picking up a stray volleyball from the floor.

   “Oh don’t be like that, Hajime,” Hanamakki said. “How’d you meet him?”

   That was _definitely_ not a story Iwaizumi was ready to tell. “You caught me,” he said. “He’s a mail-order bride. Happy?”

   “Come on, man, what’s eating you?” Hanamakki pleaded. “Why’re you so hush-hush over it?”

   “Look,” Iwaizumi said, tightening his grip on the ball. “I wasn’t really sure how—or _if—_ I was gonna tell you I like guys, and I’m still a little self-conscious about it, okay?”

   “Is that all?” Hanamakki said. “Come on, Hajime, you know for a fact that I don’t give a shit. In fact, I’ll let you in on a little secret.”

   Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow. “And what is that?”

   Hanamakki leaned in close, eyebrows knit together, and the corner of his mouth turned up in a half-smile. “Why do you think Matsukawa and I take so long in the locker room after matches?”

   It took a moment for this to sink in. When it finally clicked in Iwaizumi’s brain just what Hanamakki was trying to say, he felt his grip on the volleyball slip, and it bounced away harmlessly in the other direction.

   “You’re… fucking with me,” he said hoarsely, still not entirely sure he’d heard him right.

   Hanamakki shook his head seriously. “No,” he said. “Not with you. With Matsukawa.”

   “QUIT IT,” Iwaizumi hissed as Hanamakki grinned triumphantly. “Can you be serious for a _minute?”_

“Thirty seconds is my limit.”

   The amount of restraint Iwaizumi was exerting, he thought, was almost god-like. “Okay, fine. Well, it’s not my business what you and Matsukawa do in the dark—but _please_ don’t make me think about it—as long as you keep playing volleyball.”

   “And the same to you,” Hanamakki said. “That’s my _point,_ Iwaizumi, I don’t _care_ what you’re into, just keep it together, huh?”

   Iwaizumi nodded in defeat, and Hanamakki smiled. “Good. Now that we’ve got that out of the way, tell me about your boyfriend.”

   He swallowed. “Uh… You see…”

   Suddenly, the doors flew open, and to Iwaizumi’s utter horror, a voice called out:

   “Iwa-cha-a-a-an!”

   Iwaizumi could physically _feel_ the blood leaving his face. His stomach and other internal organs plummeted into his shoes, and slowly, he forced himself to turn around and face the human wrecking ball that was Oikawa Tooru.

   Usually, Oikawa appeared still in his uniform, but he must have gone home to change, because now he was wearing skinny khakis, and a black t-shirt that read “THE X-FILES” against a spotlight background. A weekender bag was slung over his shoulder, and on it, Iwaizumi could see a number of baggage tickets and miscellaneous charms.

   He was a gorgeous nightmare. Iwaizumi looked nervously back at Hanamakki, who was gaping at him, caught somewhere in between shock and delight; he had not only discovered Iwaizumi’s secret, but he had _also_ caught him in a blatant lie.

   “You were taking a long time, so I came to get you,” Oikawa said, clearly oblivious to the turmoil he had just caused. “Let’s go already!”

   _“So,”_ Hanamakki said. The amount of twisted satisfaction in his voice was so apparent, it made Iwaizumi cringe. “Who’s this, Hajime?”

   “Oikawa,” Iwaizumi muttered, just loud enough for the other two to hear him. “This is… Hanamakki Takahiro… Hanamakki, this is… O-Oikawa Tooru.”

   “It’s a _pleasure_ to meet you,” Hanamakki said, his voice dripping with false charisma. “Iwaizumi, how have you never brought him here?”

   Oikawa opened his mouth to answer, but Iwaizumi cut him off almost instantly. “We only recently met,” he said quickly. “Actually, we really need to get going. Right, Oikawa?”

   “So soon?” Hanamakki said, pretending to pout. “Are you sure?”

   Iwaizumi was about to come up with a snappy retort, when Matsukawa appeared, and slung his arm around Hanamakki’s waist, a sight that now made Iwaizumi flinch. “What’s going on?” he asked. He noticed Oikawa; “Who’s this?”

   “I’d love to do more introductions, but we’ve REALLY got to go,” Iwaizumi said, staring daggers at Hanamakki. “RIGHT, Oikawa?!”

   “Oh, I dunno, maybe we can stay a little,” Oikawa said, gazing at Matsukawa. Iwaizumi nearly bit through his tongue. “I mean, you always talk about your team—“

   “LEAVING,” Iwaizumi said, seizing Oikawa by his collar and dragging him in the other direction. “GOOD NIGHT, HANAMAKKI.”

   “Go get ‘em, captain!”

   Iwaizumi successfully hauled Oikawa outside before the other boy broke free. “Iwa-chan,” he whined. “Why are you so quick to ruin my fun?”

   “Matsukawa’s got a boyfriend,” Iwaizumi snapped. “Well, I guess. Sort of. I really don’t want to know. Anyway, you can’t stand there and make eyes at him like that.”

   “I wasn’t making _eyes_ at him,” Oikawa said, offended. “I think you’re reading too much into me, Iwa-chan.”

   “Well, WHATEVER you were doing, stop it,” he said. “Come on, let’s get going.”

   He started off at a brisk pace, and Oikawa jogged to catch up to him. “Why are you in such a grumpy mood, Iwa-chan?” he asked. “Did something happen?”

   “I’m fine,” Iwaizumi said automatically. “I’ve just been stressed out lately is all.”

   “From what?”

   “Oh, I dunno,” Iwaizumi said. “Volleyball, homework, entrance exams, close encounters of the third kind, normal high school stuff.”

   “You know,” Oikawa said, “lots of people would KILL for close encounters.”

   “I didn’t realize how many people had a death wish,” Iwaizumi said flatly.

   “Don’t be like that,” Oikawa said, waving his hand dismissively. “We haven’t died yet!”

   “’Yet.’”

   “I digress,” Oikawa said. “My point is, we have to embrace this! We could be heroes! The first to make real contact! That’s a title that’ll go down in history!”

   “Assuming we live that long.”

   Oikawa rolled his eyes. “Such a pessimist. Let’s talk about something else, then. White Day was a few weeks ago, did you give anyone chocolate?”

   “A couple of people,” Iwaizumi said, embarrassed. “A few girls gave me chocolate on Valentines Day. And, of course, the guys on the team do it as a joke, too.”

   He had a sudden flashback to Hanamakki and Matsukawa giving each other chocolate and exchanging suggestive looks. _I’ve got to keep a closer eye on them from now on._

“Of course you’re popular, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said good-naturedly. “You’re the captain of the volleyball team! I bet all the girls want you.”

   “Something like that,” Iwaizumi said, trying to brush him off. “What about you?”

   “The sci-fi club always exchanges gifts around this time of year,” he said. “So we all got something.”

   “No girls confessed to you?”

   “Well,” Oikawa said, turning pink. “There were a couple.”

   “And what did you say?”

   “I mean, I returned the gifts, obviously,” he said. “But I didn’t really want to date any of them, I guess.”

   Iwaizumi felt himself smirk involuntarily. “Too busy ogling the volleyball team?”

   “I was NOT!” Oikawa said, and Iwaizumi started to laugh. “Don’t be mean, Iwa-chan!” He frowned, and narrowed his eyes. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were _jealous.”_

Iwaizumi stopped laughing. “Don’t be stupid,” he snapped. “Ogle whoever you want, but don’t distract my players during a tournament.”

   “I won’t!” Oikawa said. “Jeez.”

   Iwaizumi’s house appeared around the corner and he pointed it out to Oikawa. “We’re here.”

   “You have a nice house, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said pleasantly, following him up the steps.

   “Thanks,” Iwaizumi said, unlocking the door for them. “Here, you can go in.”

   They took their shoes off and Iwaizumi flicked on the entrance hall light. “Are you hungry?” Iwaizumi asked instinctively. He wasn’t a pro host, but if his mother had taught him anything, it was that when someone enters your house, you’re supposed to immediately offer food.

   “We should make popcorn for the movie,” Oikawa said, still looking around. “Hey, Iwa-chan, I want to see your room.”

   “Uh—“

   “It’s upstairs, right?” he said. “It’s only fair; you got to see mine, after all.”

   He bounded up the steps, Iwaizumi on his heels. “Would you hold ON—“

   Oikawa must have been _very_ lucky that day, because not only did he manage to avoid Iwaizumi attempting to snatch him in mid-step, but he also correctly guessed which door led to his room. Before Iwaizumi could do anything, he threw open the door, and Iwaizumi heard him laugh.

   “What’s so funny?!” he demanded, catching up to Oikawa.

   “It’s just like I pictured it,” Oikawa said. “So neat… I didn’t expect the Godzilla posters, though.”

   “I really like Godzilla, okay?” Iwaizumi said defensively. “At least I don’t have conspiracy-theory corkboards, unlike SOME people.”

   “Hey, those take a lot of effort!” he said. “I didn’t say the Godzilla posters were a bad thing, I just didn’t _expect_ them, that’s all.”

   He noticed the small glass tank sitting on top of Iwaizumi’s desk, which contained a thick layer of dirt, a cactus, and a water dish. “Oh!” Oikawa exclaimed. “What’s this?”

   “That’s Kumonga,” Iwaizumi said, glancing over at him. “He doesn’t bite.”

   “What do you—“

   Oikawa let out a high-pitched shriek that caused Iwaizumi to throw his notebook across the room. He whipped around, and Oikawa was pressed against the bedroom wall, staring intently at the tank.

   “Iwa-chan, what the hell?!” he cried. “What is that?!”

   “It’s a Rose-Hair Tarantula,” Iwaizumi said, walking over and taking the mesh top off the cage. “They’re not aggressive, and not venomous, so lots of people keep them as pets.”

   He gently scooted his hand underneath Kumonga’s legs, and the tarantula climbed docilely into his palm. “See?”

   “Why are you HOLDING IT?” Oikawa said, not taking his eyes off of Kumonga for even a second.

   Iwaizumi frowned. “Are you afraid of bugs?”

   “N-Not _afraid,”_ Oikawa stuttered indignantly. “I’m just not a _fan,_ that’s all.”

   “Really?” Iwaizumi asked. “So you won’t mind if I introduce you two?”

   “I d-don’t think that’s really necessary—“

   “Are you sure?”

   “No, it’s fine, he’s very handsome—“

   Iwaizumi took another step forward, and almost had to bite his lip to keep himself from snickering as Oikawa made another futile attempt to fuse himself with the drywall. “Y’know, I think he likes you…“

   He extended his arm, and Oikawa shrieked. “IWA-CHAN, I’LL KILL YOU!”

   Iwaizumi burst out laughing and brought Kumonga back to his chest. “Afraid of bugs, but not of aliens and almost-certain death. Who’d have thought.”

   “I’m not AFRAID,” Oikawa said, offended. “It’s just—“ Iwaizumi lunged at him with Kumonga still in his palm, and Oikawa screamed loudly. “DON’T YOU DARE!”

   Iwaizumi laughed again, and gently set Kumonga back in his tank. “Next time just admit you’re scared, Shittykawa.”

   Oikawa pouted in the corner while Iwaizumi finished putting his things away. “Alright Shittykawa, now that you’ve gotten your tour, NOW are you hungry?”

   Secretly, Iwaizumi had expected him to pout a little bit longer, but the mention of a free meal seemed to put Oikawa into a good mood. “Yeah!” he said, his face lighting up. “Are you going to cook for me, Iwa-chan?”

   “No,” Iwaizumi said flatly, and Oikawa looked disappointed. “I will show you where the kitchen is, though.”

   Oikawa sighed melodramatically as Iwaizumi led them back downstairs. “You don’t love me,” he said. “If you loved me, you’d cook for me.”

   “Nope, you’re right,” Iwaizumi said. “I don’t love you.”

   “MEAN.”

   Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, and just then, his phone beeped. He took it out from his pocket, and Oikawa peered over his shoulder.

   “Is that a Godzilla phone case?”

   “Shut up,” Iwaizumi snapped. A message from Hanamakki had come in; he unlocked the phone, and his messages pulled up. Before he could click the thread with Hanamakki, Oikawa’s voice yelled in his ear:

   “Why is my name in your phone SHITTYKAWA?!”

   “Would you stop looking at my phone?!” Iwaizumi snapped.

   “That’s so MEAN, Iwa-chan—“

   “Oikawa—“

   “Even after I asked you not to make my contact name anything mean—“

   “Shut up!” Iwaizumi said, trying to open his messages with one hand, while valiantly fending off Oikawa with the other. “Let me look at this in PRIVATE.”

 _  
_    [Hanamakki Takahiro] _Your boyfriend was cute. I don’t like the way he was looking at Matsukawa, though. Please make sure he knows that ass is MINE._

   Iwaizumi repressed an eye roll. He’d never known Hanamakki to have much of a filter, but he was lucky that Oikawa didn’t see that, because Iwaizumi would strangle him with his bare hands.

_  
He’s not my boyfriend, stupid. And don’t be gross._

  

   “Who is it?!”Oikawa demanded, voice muffled by Iwaizumi’s left hand, which was still pressed against his face.

   “It’s just one of my teammates,” Iwaizumi said, annoyed. “He’s asking about practice. Now will you piss off? Weren’t you hungry a couple of minutes ago?”

   “You haven’t fed me,” Oikawa said, finally giving up the fight against Iwaizumi. “Offer me something.”

   Iwaizumi glared at him for a moment. “Fine,” he said, wrenching open the door of the fridge. “What do you want?”

   Oikawa paused to think. “Do you have any milk bread?”

   “Milk bread?” Iwaizumi said. “Uh… I guess.”

   He found a pre-packaged loaf in the fridge and handed it to Oikawa, who unwrapped it feverishly. He took a massive bite, consuming almost half the loaf, and smiled, satisfied.

   “Thanks, Iwa-chan,” he said, his voice muffled by the bite of milk bread that was still in his mouth.

   “You’re welcome,” Iwaizumi said, bemused. “Do you want anything else?”

   “Nope,” Oikawa said happily. “This is all.”

   Iwaizumi took out a pack of senbei and a bottle of tea for himself, and turned back to Oikawa.

   “Do you want a drink—“

   The other boy was gone. “… Oikawa?” Iwaizumi said, looking around the kitchen. “Shittykawa, where the hell—“

   “I’m in here, Iwa-chan!” his voice called from the living room.

   “Don’t wander off,” Iwaizumi snapped, following him. Oikawa was sitting cross-legged on the couch, looking innocent.

   “It’s not my fault you were taking a long time,” Oikawa said dismissively.

   Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, and began looking through the drawers of the stand that held up his TV. “Do you want to watch the 1954 or the 1955 Godzilla? Or the Son of Godzilla? I think I have Godzilla Versus King Kong upstairs…”

   “I think we should watch the 1954 one,” Oikawa said from behind him. “I think the bad special effects are funny.”

   “Alright then,” he said, removing the DVD from its plastic cover. “Here…”

   He slid it into the DVD player, and the screen blinked to life. Iwaizumi retreated away from the TV and sat down next to Oikawa on the couch, who formed himself into a ball, with his head resting just above his knees.

   “… You’re going to hurt your back if you sit like that,” Iwaizumi said.

   Oikawa straightened up a little bit. “Sorry, mom.”

   Iwaizumi was about to snap back at him, but just then, the movie started, and he resigned to a displeased glare. However, Oikawa was too absorbed in the movie to notice.

   “… Where’s Godzilla?” he asked, still staring at the screen. “Why are they just on a boat?”

   “He doesn’t come in for a bit,” Iwaizumi said. “You have to be patient.”

   “I don’t want patience,” Oikawa pouted, “I want Godzilla!”

   “You’re _twelve,”_ Iwaizumi said flatly. Oikawa didn’t respond, but out of the corner of his eye, Iwaizumi could see him break into a grin.

\--

   It had been a while since Iwiazumi had seen the last Godzilla movie, and he’d forgotten how cheesy some of it was; not that it was at all a detriment to the movie’s quality. As far as Iwaizumi was concerned, Godzilla was the epitome of 20th-century film, regardless of how well—or not so well—it aged.

   Finally, at about forty-five minutes into the movie, the monster himself appeared, swimming in slowly from the depths.

   “There he is, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa said excitedly.

   “I can see him, you know,” Iwaizumi said, amused.

   Oikawa settled deeper into the couch. “It’s so dark,” he said. “I can’t really see the details.”

   “It’ll get better,” Iwaizumi assured him. “It’s just because it’s night right now.”

   He nodded silently, and they continued watching for a couple of minutes. “Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said.

   “Yeah?”

   “I’m cold,” he said. “Is there a blanket somewhere?”

   “Sure, hold on,” he said, standing up. Iwaizumi had seen the movie so many times, that it didn’t really matter to him if he missed a few minutes.

   “Thanks,” Oikawa said gratefully, wrapping his arms around himself.

   When Iwaizumi returned two minutes later, he noticed the Oikawa had moved slightly. Not a lot, but enough to be noticeable. He sat down, and their legs brushed on the couch.

   “Here,” Iwaizumi said, handing him a red blanket. “Is this okay?”

   “It’s perfect,” Oikawa said, unfolding it. He shook it out, and allowed it to drape over his and Iwaizumi’s laps. Iwaizumi opened his mouth to say he wasn’t cold, but just then, Oikawa’s hand brushed the outside of his thigh as he readjusted himself, and Iwaizumi decided it was best to be grateful for the cover.

   “Do you think the filmmakers knew how successful this was going to be?” Oikawa asked. “Like, did they have any idea that they were creating one of the most influential movies in history?”

   “I doubt it,” Iwaizumi said. “I mean… I don’t think anyone who creates something successful ever really goes in knowing how it’s going to turn out.”

   “Does anyone go into _anything_ knowing how it’ll turn out?”

   “Well, sometimes,” he said. “We do things every day that we just sort of have to assume will turn out fine, like sitting in a chair and assuming it won’t break, or eating food and assuming it isn’t poisoned. I’m pretty sure that if we had to think about that every time we did something, we’d lose our minds.”

   Oikawa shifted underneath the blanket. “Have you ever done something major without thinking?”

   “… Not really,” Iwaizumi said. “I suppose I didn’t think I was going to be the captain of the volleyball team, but I did know that I’d always enjoy it, so I felt pretty safe going in… What about you?”

   “Uh, I sometimes don’t really look before I leap,” Oikawa said guiltily, rubbing the back of his head. “For the most part, I try to think things out, but occasionally things come up, and I just want to dive headfirst into them, you know? If something feels right, why waste time?”

   “You’re not afraid of it blowing up in your face or going wrong?”

   “Iwa-chan, you met me looking for aliens in a ditch on the side of a road,” Oikawa said. “Do you really think things blowing up in my face is a huge concern of mine?”

   He had a pretty good point, Iwaizumi thought. “… Maybe not,” he said. “But I don’t think I could really go into something blindly. I have to at least have some sense of direction. I guess I’m just not a big risk-taker.”

   “They say taking risks is good for you, you know,” he said over the sound of the half-forgotten movie in the background. “When was the last time you took a risk, Iwa-chan?”

   “Probably when I allowed some weirdo I met on the side of the road drag me into the sci-fi club so they could vote on whether I was an alien,” Iwaizumi said flatly.

   “Do you regret it?”

   A moment of silence flickered between them. “… No,” Iwaizumi said, not taking his eyes off of the television screen. “I don’t.”

   He felt Oikawa shift into a ball next to him. “Is that so?” he said, and the smugness in his voice was almost enough to make Iwaizumi cry. “Are you saying, perhaps… that you’re GLAD you met me?”

   “Can you be any more insufferable?”

   “Say it, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa said happily. “You’re glad you met me!”

   Iwaizumi heaved a massive sigh as Godzilla destroyed a clock tower on the screen. “Of course I am,” he said, almost to himself. “I just didn’t think I had to say it out loud.”

   Where Iwaizumi expected a stream of teasing and delight from the other side of the couch, there was silence. Surprised, he looked over; Oikawa was staring at him, apparently at a loss for words. He was very close, and Iwaizumi tried to turn his attention back to the movie.

   “You mean it?”

   The strangers onscreen ran from the approaching monster, and Iwaizumi turned back to Oikawa; his head was cocked slightly to the right, and Iwaizumi could see his eyes, blown wide in the dark, watching his every move like a hawk.

   “Yeah,” he said. “I mean it.”

   There was another brief moment of silence, which felt like a series of ropes tightening around all of Iwaizumi’s innards. “Maybe you should take risks more often,” Oikawa said. His voice was quieter now.

   Iwaizumi paused, keeping his eyes locked with Oikawa’s. “Maybe I should.”

   The ropes that had been strangling Iwaizumi stiffened, and he knew that they would only grow tighter. _Take a risk, Hajime,_ his mind was screaming. _Take a risk. Take a risk. Go in blind. Take a risk._

_It’s good for you._

The ropes tightened a second time, now more suffocating than ever, and Iwaizumi jerked forward awkwardly, fighting off the restrains that kept his limbs bound securely to his side of the couch. With his right hand, he slipped his fingers around Oikawa’s jawline, and used the other to balance himself on the couch. The breath that passed between the time that Iwaizumi touched him and the moment their lips met felt like an hour. Nerves blurred Iwaizumi’s vision; his mind was blank, and his body was on autopilot. As soon as they touched, Iwaizumi felt the ropes fall away.

   For one, brief, heart-stopping second, Oikawa was stone-still underneath him, and Iwaizumi thought he was going to pass out. Then, he felt the other boy begin to relax, his shoulders drooping downwards, and his head tilting forward to better meet Iwaizumi. Everything had suddenly become very warm and very soft, and Iwaizumi hadn’t kissed anybody in _ages,_ not since he’d had a girlfriend in his first year, and Oikawa made it feel so _easy,_ so incredibly, painfully right, that Iwaizumi wondered how he’d gone so long without it _._

They broke apart with a quick exhale. There was silence, except for the sounds of the television still playing in the background.

   “You…” Iwaizumi said, still only inches from Oikawa. “You taste like milk bread.”

   He immediately felt like an idiot, but Oikawa didn’t flinch. “Is that a bad thing?”

   “No, not at all,” he said breathlessly. “Actually, I kind of like milk bread—“

   It was a good thing that Iwaizumi had kept himself braced against the couch, because before he could finish his sentence, Oikawa had tackled him, throwing his arms around Iwaizumi’s neck. Iwaizumi caught him, both of his arms wrapping around Oikawa’s waist, keeping them pressed together as they fell backwards onto the couch.

   There was nothing else around them now, Iwaizumi thought. Nothing else existed, no noise came from the television; his world consisted entirely of Oikawa, and the graciously strong couch that kept them upright. Iwaizumi moved one of his hands up Oikawa’s back, letting it come to rest in Oikawa’s hair, which he gently wove through his fingers, enjoying the high which came from the satisfied hum that it elicited.

   A second break for breath broke them apart again, and they stared at each other, both panting slightly and flushed deeply.

   “So what do you think?” Oikawa said, out of breath, but smiling. “Are risks good for you?”

   “So good,” Iwaizumi said. “Come here…”

   They intertwined again, and down the hall, the clock began to strike the hour. Neither one of them heard it.

   The silent movie was left to the darkness.

\--

   When the hours struck high, and long after Godzilla made after his final appearance onscreen, Iwaizumi and Oikawa finally found the willpower to pry themselves off of Iwaizumi’s beige living-room couch. They didn’t speak as they walked up the stairs to Iwaizumi’s bedroom; there wasn’t any need to, and neither of them would have known what to say, anyway.

   Oikawa knelt beside his overnight bag, and began digging through it. Iwaizumi refilled Kumonga’s water dish. The room was filled with their silence, until Oikawa said:

   “Is this… a thing now?”

   “… Us?” Iwaizumi asked. Oikawa nodded. “If you want it to be, then it is.”

   “Then I can stay?”

   “You already asked me that, stupid,” Iwaizumi said. “You can stay as long as you’d like.”

   A grin overtook Oikawa’s face, and any tension that had been in the room melted away. “Good,” he said. “Because you couldn’t have gotten rid of me, anyway.”

   “I don’t need you to tell me that,” Iwaizumi said.

   Oikawa’s grin widened, and he pulled out a pair of blue pajama pants from inside of his bag. “If I change in here, will you get embarrassed again?”

   “No,” he said indignantly. “Go right ahead.”

   Oikawa immediately began peeling himself out of his skinny khakis, and Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. _What an idiot._ Suddenly, in the corner of his vision, he noticed something, and stopped.

   “I hope none of your teammates have a thing for their captain,” he said, still fiddling with his pants. “I’m the jealous type. Besides, you said that one guy had a boyfriend anyway…”

   He continued on about the rest of the volleyball team, successfully pulling off his pants and tossing them back into the bag. Iwaizumi, meanwhile, couldn't take his eyes off the younger boy. Oikawa noticed this, and smirked over his shoulder.

   "Like what you see?" he said, grabbing the seat of his underwear.

   "You're… wearing boxers with little aliens on them," Iwaizumi said flatly.

 _"So?!"_ Oikawa protested, apparently _deeply_ offended that Iwaizumi was _not_ staring at his ass.

   “Where the hell do you even get something like that?” he said, attempting to fight off a smirk. “I mean, what store? Did you have to custom order them? Like, online or something?”

   “It doesn’t matter!” he pouted. “They’re cool!”

   “Whatever makes you happy, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi said, half-laughing.

   Oikawa continued to pout, and went back to looking through his bag; meanwhile, Iwaizumi changed into a different pair of pants. When Oikawa was finished, he turned back around, and Iwaizumi heard him say:

   “Hey! That’s not fair!”

   Iwaizumi frowned. “What are you talking about?”

   “You changed!” Oikawa said, pointing at his pants with a bottle of toothpaste. “You got to watch me change, so it’s only fair that I get to watch you!”

   Iwaizumi folded his arms. “You’re ridiculous. Go brush your teeth.”

   Oikawa threw the tube of toothpaste at him, but missed dramatically, and it went sailing above Iwaizumi’s head. He stretched to catch it, and when he turned back to Oikawa, expecting praise, saw that he was gaping at his abdomen instead. As he’d reached to grab the tube, his shirt had ridden up, coming to rest on his abs, at which Oikawa was now gawking (thanks Serina).

   “… Something I can do for you?” Iwaizumi asked, startling Oikawa out of his trance.

   “N-No,” he stammered, turning a delicate shade of crimson. “I’m—I’m going to go brush my teeth.”

   He hurried out of the room, and Iwaizumi chuckled to himself. On the desk, his phone vibrated, and Iwaizumi picked up a text from Hanamakki:

 

   [Hanamakki Takahiro] _U gettin it in?_

Of course that would be the first thing out of his mouth. Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, and set to work on a reply:

  

   _No. And for the second time, can you not be gross?_

[Hanamakki Takahiro] _But………….. you’re getting it?_

_No, Hanamakki._

   It was possible that this wasn’t _entirely_ true, but Iwaizumi felt pretty confident that “getting it” in Hanamakki’s mind was a lot more than just making out on your living room couch. But Iwaizumi was certainly not going to tell him, anyway. At the next practice, maybe, but he would never give Hanamakki the satisfaction of having it in writing.

 

    
    [Hanamakki Takahiro] _Work harder. You need to get laid._

  
  _I’m going to bed now._

[Hanamakki Takahiro] _YOU CAN’T KEEP USING THAT AS AN EXUCSE_

_Goodnight, Hanamakki._

[Hanamakki Takahiro] _DAMMIT, HAJIME_

Oikawa returned to the room, and Iwaizumi quickly put the phone back on his desk. He didn’t seem to notice, and turned to Iwaizumi.

   “So, uh…” he said. “Is it okay if I sleep with you?”

   “I’m not going to make you sleep on the couch,” Iwaizumi said.

   “I appreciate that,” Oikawa said sheepishly. He climbed into Iwaizumi’s bed, and curled himself around a pillow, facing the wall.

   Iwaizumi frowned, and shut off the lights. He shuffled through the dark until he found his bed, and climbed in after him. There was a light dent where Oikawa lay on the mattress; Iwaizumi pulled the covers up over them, and took a moment to adjust to the feeling of another person lying beside him.

   “Oikawa,” he said quietly.

   A soft hum from in front of him signified an answer. “Can I…” Iwaizumi said. “Can I touch you?”

   For a moment, Oikawa didn’t say anything. Then, he scooted backwards closer to Iwaizumi, and said: “I’d be a little offended if you didn’t.”

   Iwaizumi half-smiled, and slung an arm around Oikawa’s waist, pulling them together. He let his nose and mouth rest against the soft curls of the other boy’s hair, and reveled in the feeling of the two of them breathing in synch.

   “Is this worth it all?” Oikawa said. “The sci-fi club, the near-death experiences, explaining to a group of first years why we were stalking them?”

   Iwaizumi’s face blossomed into a full smile, and he pressed his lips against the back of Oikawa’s neck. “You know, I never thought I’d say this, but… I guess it is.”

   Oikawa laughed quietly. “I really like you, Iwa-chan.”

   “I really like you, too, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi said as he buried his face once again in Oikawa’s hair.

   For once, Shittykawa didn’t protest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha.............long chapter. I know. Sorry guys. Anyway, I'd write more, but it's 2 AM here, and I have homework to do. As usual, hit me up at sailor-rinn on Tumblr, and I'll see you in two week


	6. The Truth is Out There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, Iwaizumi supposed, there is no logical explanation--not for aliens, not for Bigfoot, and certainly not for Oikawa Tooru.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mothman is real and I bought drugs off him in a Denny's parking lot at 3 AM

   Sunlight streamed the blinds of Iwaizumi’s bedroom, elongating the shadows of the full-sized bed, and the two people sleeping within it. The rays passed over Iwaizumi’s face, and he shifted, his once-sound sleep disturbed. Slowly, he began to wake, and the blurry ceiling of his bedroom filled his vision.

   _Why is it so warm in here?_ He thought. _I need to get some water…_

Iwaizumi attempted to stand, but a force clung on to his chest and legs, pulling him back down. Oikawa Tooru was wrapped around him like a four-armed octopus; he was still out cold, and his head was pinning down Iwaizumi’s right shoulder.

   For a moment, Iwaizumi gave thought to lying back down, but he was also _incredibly_ hot, and the thought of a drink was too tempting. He carefully untangled himself from Oikawa, who despite very obviously being asleep, managed to retain an iron grip, and stood up. Oikawa, meanwhile, muttered something about Reticulans, and rolled over in his sleep.

   Iwaizumi sighed, half-smiling, and began walking down the hall to the bathroom. _I can’t believe alien-boy is knocked out in my bedroom,_ he thought. _Hanamakki is never going to let me hear the end of it._ He paused for a moment, suddenly unsure. _Maybe I’m okay with that._

He walked into the bathroom and looked at his reflection in the mirror. There were crease lines on his face from the pillowcase, and his hair was messy and stuck up at odd angles. Bags rested under his eyes, but despite that, he felt himself smiling.

   Iwaizumi turned on cold water, and splashed his face. It was refreshing, especially after his body temperature had risen fifteen degrees from Oikawa clinging to him like a koala bear. He filled a glass with water, and drank. It all seemed very foreign, like he was in a dream; his hands and face were in the bathroom, still damp with tap water, but his mind was back in bed with Oikawa. He braced himself against the porcelain edges of the sink, and looked his reflection in the eyes. Oh, he thought, was he in deep.

   He pulled away from the mirror, and wandered back to his room. Oikawa hadn’t moved from his sleeping position; Iwaizumi lay down beside him, pulling the cover back over himself. As he shifted into a comfortable position, Oikawa rolled back over, and proceeded to re-attach himself to Iwaizumi.

   “Iwa-chan…” he muttered sleepily, nudging his face into Iwaizumi’s bicep.

   “Are you awake?” Iwaizumi whispered.

   Oikawa let out a gentle snore, and Iwaizumi took that as a “no.” From his bedside table, Iwaizumi’s phone buzzed, and he reached to pick it up. As he expected, he had about a dozen messages from Hanamakki, and one from his mom. He opened the one from his mother first:

 

   [Mom] _Hi Hajime. I’ll be home around nine tonight, I’m going to stay and help grandma with her garden. Make sure you eat, and I’ll see you tonight. Love you._

   [To: Mom] _Alright, I’ll see you then. Love you too._

Iwaizumi let out a sigh of relief. This meant he had the rest of the day to do… whatever this was. Lying in bed, maybe. He’d be content with that, to just lie here with Oikawa for the next eleven hours, or however long it was.

   He checked the messages that had come in from Hanamakki:

[Hanamakki Takahiro] _You can’t hold out on me forever._

_Watch me,_ Iwaizumi thought.

 

[Hanamakki Takahiro] _If you don’t tell me, Matsukawa and I are going to start making out during practice._

[Hanamakki Takahiro] _I’m serious, Hajime, we’ll be gross._

[Hanamakki Takahiro] _Like, tongue and everything. I’ll make Yahaba play shitty music during it, too._

[Hanamakki Takahiro] _If you’re asleep right now, know that I am disappointed in you._

[Hanamakki Takahiro] _You’d better not just be ignoring me._

[Hanamakki Takahiro] _I don’t care if you’re having the most mind-blowing sex in the history of the world, you can still answer my fucking texts._

[Hanamakki Takahiro] _IWAIZUMI HAJIME_

[Hanamakki Takahiro] _ARE YOU GETTING IT IN OR NOT_

[Hanamakki Takahiro] _I hope you’re being safe at least. Let me know if you need a rubber, I’ll be over there in ten minutes._

[Hanamakki Takahiro] _Anything for a bro._

  

   [Hanamakki Takahiro] _Fine, be like that. But if I don’t hear from you by 3 tomorrow, I’m coming over there._

   That was last one, which had come in at a little past four last night. Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. Some people might see Hanamakki’s dogged behavior as annoying or excessive, but Hajime knew that he meant it in the most sincere way. He tapped the new message button:

_  
You’re ridiculous. I didn’t have sex with him, Hanamakki. All we did was watch a movie._

   The reply was almost instant:

 

   [Hanamakki Takahiro] _THERE YOU ARE.  
   What do you mean you just “watched a movie?!” You didn’t even kiss him?! Are you out of your mind, Hajime? You did kiss him, right?!_

_I’m not giving you the satisfaction of having a “yes” or “no” answer to that in writing._

He set the phone down, and resolved to ignore the inevitable inpouring of text that was due at any minute now. Instead, he curled his arm around, letting his fingers tangle in Oikawa’s hair, and stared up at the ceiling. They lay in silence for a few minutes, with Iwaizumi basking in every moment, until Oikawa stirred from beside him.

   “Mmm…” he murmured, letting out a breath. “Iwa-chan?”

   “Morning, Shittykawa,” Iwiazumi said, his mouth cocked into a half-smile. “Sleep well?”

   “Iwa-chan, it’s too early to be that mean…” Oikawa muttered sleepily.

   “You underestimate me,” Iwaizumi said, drawing him closer.

   A slender arm stretched over his chest, and Oikawa’s fingers wrapped around his other arm. “Can we stay in bed a little while longer?” he asked.

   “I’m not in a rush,” Iwaizumi said.

   “Good,” Oikawa said, and Iwaizumi could feel his smile against his skin. “Because I wasn’t going to let you leave, anyway.”

   “Of course you wouldn’t,” Iwaizumi said, amused. “You’ve gotta make my life hard, Shittykawa.”

   Oikawa giggled—he _giggled,_ Iwaizumi thought—and said:

   “I can do that.”

\--

   Iwaizumi lost track of the time that they spent in bed that day; at first, he was worried about them falling back asleep, but Oikawa was more than happy to talk Iwaizumi’s ears off. He told him about the tree at the park down the street that he had always tried to climb as a child, but mostly just ended up falling out of; he’d come home crying and covered his dirt, and his mother would scold him, but he somehow always ended up doing it again. In turn, Iwaizumi told him about the extensive bug collection he had as a kid; this made Oikawa cringe, but he also switched between scolding Iwaizumi for being cruel.

   “It’s not as though they were painful deaths,” Iwaizumi had insisted. “They just sort of fell asleep and didn’t wake up.”

   “Iwa-chan!” Oikawa exclaimed. “That’s still so mean!”

   Between their bickering and storytelling, they steadily grew closer on the pillow, and as Iwaizumi had expected—and maybe, secretly hoped—it ended in them simply making out for half an hour. Finally, when the clock struck two, Iwaizumi separated them and said:

   “Okay, we should probably eat something.”

   Oikawa nodded in agreement, and they both got out of bed. Neither of them bothered getting dressed, and instead, they went downstairs and straight into the kitchen.

   “What do you want?” Iwaizumi said. “We have some rice, shrimp tempura, edamame…”

   “Do you have any more milk bread?”

   Iwaizumi turned around to glare at him. “You can’t live off of milk bread, you know.”

   “You haven’t seen me try,” Oikawa said matter-of-factly.

   He rolled his eyes, and pulled out another pre-packaged loaf from the fridge. “Here,” he said, tossing it to Oikawa. “But you’ve gotta eat something else, too.”

   “Fine, fine,” Oikawa said. “Edamame, I guess.”

   Iwaizumi took out a bag of frozen edamame and placed it in the microwave to reheat. As he did that, he turned back to Oikawa and said

   “Okay Shittykawa. We’ve got the rest of the day to ourselves. What do you want to do?”

   “I want you to stop calling me Shittykawa,” he said through a mouthful of bread.

   “It’s very difficult to take you seriously when you’re stuffing your face with milk bread.”

   Oikawa frowned, swallowed; “Fine. Better?”

   “Yes. Now what do you want to do?”

   Oikawa paused, thoughtfully taking another bite out of his bread. “Do you still have that cube?” he asked. “We should look at that.”

   “Yeah, it’s upstairs,” Iwaizumi said, scooping rice into a bowl. “I guess it’s probably better to do it now while my parents are out, in case it does anything weird. But fair warning, if it catches the house on fire or something, I’m going to stay and burn with it.”

   He frowned. “Why?”

   “It’s better than what my mom will do to me if she finds out I burnt down the damn house.”

   “That’s fair,” Oikawa said. “Let me finish this and we’ll go.”

   “Uh, _no,”_ Iwaizumi said, pulling the hot bowl of edamame out of the microwave and handing them to Oikawa. “You need to eat.”

   “Iwa-chan, you’re like my _mom,”_ Oikawa complained; however, one look from Iwaizumi shut him down, and he nibbled sheepishly on a soybean.

   Once he’d finished eating, they went back upstairs to Iwaizumi’s bedroom. The cube was still in Iwaizumi’s bag from the day, and he pulled it out. He turned it over his hands; for some reason, he had expected it to change, but it still looked the exact same.

   “Here,” he said, handing it to Oikawa. “I’ve tried messing with it, nothing happens.”

   He took the cube from Iwaizumi, and began examining it himself. “It’s a puzzle,” he said. “I think you have to push in the little knobs in the right order.”

   “How are we supposed to know what order that is?”

   Oikawa shrugged. “We press buttons until something happens.”

   Iwaizumi thought that was a _particularly_ bad idea, but nothing was going to stop Oikawa once he got going like this. He sat back in silence as Oikawa fiddled with the cube, pushing a knob in, turning it over, pushing another once or twice, then repeating the process at random. Just as they were both beginning to give up, the cube began to vibrate in Oikawa’s hands, and he dropped it in surprise.

   Then, it began to _scream._

An ear-splitting noise came from the cube, which was still vibrating on the floor. Iwaizumi and Oikawa nearly knocked heads as they both dove to cover it; Iwaizumi was the first to get a grip on it, and he desperately began searching for the source of the sound.

   “WHAT DID YOU DO?” he yelled over the mechanical shrieking.

   “I DON’T KNOW!” Oikawa yelled back. “MAYBE I TRIGGERED AN ANTI-THEFT DEVICE OR SOMETHING?”

   “WHAT THE HELL MAKES YOU THINK THIS THING HAS AN _ANTI-THEFT DEVICE?!”_

Iwaizumi banged it in frustration against the desk, and just like that, the noise stopped with a mechanical “booooop.” Both of them stared at the cube, and then at each other.

   “You know,” Iwaizumi said, “my dad always used to joke that banging on something was the best way to fix it, but I never actually thought he could be _right.”_

“Have you ever considered the possibility that your dad is an extraterrestrial?” Oikawa said; he sounded like he was joking, but Iwaizumi certainly did not put the idea past him.

   “Let me take a look at it,” he snapped. “Clearly, you’re not supposed to be pushing the buttons.”

   He examined the cube more closely; around each one of the brass knobs was a circle of carvings, that somewhat resembled numbers. Iwaizumi frowned, and turned the knobs; to his surprise, it clicked into place, and the rune glowed blue.

   “Holy shit,” he said out loud. Oikawa jumped up like he’d been electrocuted.

   “What?!” he demanded. “What, what is it?”

   “Look at this,” Iwaizumi said, pointing to the glowing rune. “I turned the knob, and it just lit up.”

   “It’s a code!” Oikawa said. “Like, a safe!”

   “Right…” Iwaizumi breathed, still in awe of the device. “Let me try the next one…”

   He turned the cube to the next hand, and turned the dial. It clicked into place again, but nothing happened. Oikawa frowned;

   “Maybe try turning it some more?”

   Iwaizumi nodded, and turned it again, to the same effect. He tried for a third time, and this time it worked, making another rune glow blue. From beside him, Oikawa was beaming uncontrollably.

   “Third time really is the charm, huh?” he said excitedly; Iwaizumi nodded, too bewildered to speak back.

   They repeated process for the next three sides, turning the dials until a rune glowed blue; when they reached the sixth side, Iwaizumi set the cube down on the desk.

   “We, uh, might want to step back for this,” Iwaizumi said. “It could explode or something.”  
   Oikawa nodded, and ducked down behind Iwaizumi’s desk. Iwaizumi did the same thing, keeping only his hand on the dial, and peering at it from slightly below the desk.

   “Ready?” he asked; Oikawa nodded.

   _Click._ He turned the dial once; nothing happened.

   _Click._

_Click._

_Click._

_Click._

With the fifth turn, the rune released its electric-blue glow; it didn’t explode, however, and Iwaizumi and Oikawa rose slowly to look at it. There was a brief moment of silence, and then from within the cube, came the sound of metal scraping against metal. It sounded like a thousand tiny gears all turning together, and then, with a mechanical click, it unfolded like origami, and Iwaizumi and Oikawa nearly jumped through the ceiling.

   On the base of the cube was a small silver machine about the size of a golf ball, which was ticking like the inside of a watch; the parts began to move, assembling themselves with such precision and speed that Iwaizumi’s eyes couldn’t keep up with them. Finally, there was another “click,” and it stopped. Iwaizumi and Oikawa had only time to let out a breath, before a blue light began to flicker from within the center of the tiny machine, and suddenly, it filled the room.

   To Iwaizumi, it looked like something out of the year 3000; the hair-thin beam of light exploded into a 3D-projection of what appeared to be outer space. It spanned the room, at least eight by ten feet across, made entirely of blue light. Iwaizumi could see planets rotating and meteors travelling across the sky; in the distance, a thousand stars twinkled. They both watched it in wonder for a few moments, utterly unable to speak.

   “It’s beautiful,” Iwaizumi said, still awe-struck.

   “I’ve never seen anything like it,” Oikawa said. “Look… You can see all the moons and the rings of the planets…”

   He reached out gently to touch one of the planets; as his fingers encapsulated its surface, the map zoomed out, giving them a wider view of whatever galaxy they were looking at.

   “Holy shit,” Iwaizumi said. “It’s like a touch screen…”

   “Yeah,” Oikawa agreed. “And if we can zoom out…”

   He placed his hand back into the projection, and snapped his fingers and thumb together over one of the planets. It immediately zoomed back in, close enough to the planet for them to see the misty details of its surface. Two small boxes appeared next to it as well, running lines of unreadable text past their eyes.

   “It’s a GPS,” Oikawa said confidently. “That has to be it.”

   “A GPS for WHAT?” Iwaizumi asked.

   “A spaceship, obviously!” Oikawa said; he flicked his wrist, and the projection spun dizzyingly fast. “Why else would you need a map of the galaxy?”

   “A spaceship,” he said weakly. “A GPS for a spaceship. A real-life fucking spaceship.”

   Oikawa grinned smugly. “NOW do you believe in aliens, Iwa-chan?”

   Iwaizumi threw up his arms in defeat. “Sure,” he said, not taking his eyes off the projection. “I give up. Aliens exist.”

   Oikawa’s grin widened, and he scooped up the cube into the palms of his hands. “… It really is beautiful, though, isn’t it?” he asked, gazing up at the digital sky; the glow of the stars bounced off his face and dark-brown irises, even despite the faint sunlight in the room. The whole world, Iwaizumi thought, really _is_ in his eyes.

   “Yeah,” he said, torn between looking at the projection and Oikawa. “It really is.” He paused for a moment, then said, “I take it you’re not going to be putting it back?”

   Oikawa shook his head, keeping his eyes locked on the galaxies above his head. “Not in a million years.”

\--

   Six hours felt more like six minutes, and before Iwaizumi felt as though he’d really drunk it all in, Oikawa was packing his bag.

   “You know,” Iwaizumi was saying. “You don’t _have_ leave. My mother doesn’t have to know we’re together, you could just be a friend from school—“

   “Iwa-chan, you need your rest for that match on Monday,” Oikawa said pleasantly. “Besides, I have homework to do, and I’m sure you do, too.”

   Iwaizumi’s homework could _burn_ as far as he was concerned, but for once, Oikawa had a point. “Alright,” he said. “Just—be careful getting home, okay?”

   “I will,” Oikawa assured him. “You worry too much, Iwa-chan. Calm down a little. I’ll be okay.”

   Iwaizumi nodded. “Here,” Oikawa said, wrapping their fingers together. “Walk me to the door.”

   They made their way down the stairs together, and walked the few short steps to Iwaizumi’s front door with their hands still intertwined. “I guess this is goodbye until Monday,” Iwaizumi said.

   “It is,” Oikawa said. “… So, are you gonna kiss me, or what—“

   Iwaizumi cut him off, kissing Oikawa so hard that they almost butted heads. Oikawa started laughing, draping his arms over Iwaizumi’s shoulders and said:

   “Iwa-chan, you almost _killed_ me.”

   “Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “It’s just… you’re so damn _insufferable…”_

Oikawa laughed again, and kissed Iwaizumi gently. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

   “On Monday.”

   He slipped out the door, leaving Iwaizumi alone in his hallway. For a moment, he stood there, struck dumb by everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours, and then, maybe almost against his will, broke into the widest grin he’d felt in a long time.

\--

   The next two days seemed to pass in a blur for Iwaizumi; he distantly remembered doing his homework, and maybe eating a couple of times, but his thoughts were mostly on Oikawa. For whatever reason, be it nerves, or simply a lack of grasp on what to say, Iwaizumi didn’t text him, and received no contact from the other end. He spent two hours on Sunday night contemplating _exactly_ what this could mean, until he finally forced himself to go to sleep. At school the next morning, he lingered by his locker for several minutes, waiting for Oikawa to appear, but he was nowhere in sight. By the time he arrived at the gym that afternoon to leave for the match, Iwaizumi’s nerves were already shot.

   As he stood by the door, running footsteps came up to him, and Hanamakki’s voice shouted:

   “THERE YOU ARE!”

   Iwaizumi put away his phone, and looked up just in time to dodge Hanamakki, who had apparently been trying to tackle him. He spun around, confused as to where Iwaizumi had gone, then spotted him.

   “How could you hold out on me like that?!” Hanamakki demanded. “You finally start to get some, and you don’t tell your best friend and VICE CAPTAIN about it?!”

   “Could you stop YELLING ABOUT IT?” Iwaizumi snapped. “It’s embarrassing.”

   “I’ll stop when you tell me WHAT HAPPENED!”

   Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he said. “He came over after practice on Friday, and we watched a movie and ended up making out, alright? Happy?”

   “What movie?”

   “Godzilla.”

   Hanamakki frowned. “That’s not very romantic.”

   “Maybe not to _you,”_ Iwaizumi said pointedly.

   “Okay, so, what was it like?” he asked; Hanamakki had no stopping mechanism. “Making out and all?”

   He hesitated, thinking. “It was kind of like kissing a girl, I guess. But taller.”

   “Did you get—“

   “Hanamakki, I swear to god, if you’re about to ask me if I ‘got it in’ again, I will shove a volleyball down your throat.”

   “Okay, okay,” Hanamakki said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “But… did you?”

   “No,” he said firmly. “Nothing like that happened, alright? We just kissed a lot and watched Godzilla. Now lay off.”

   Hanamakki let out a dramatic sigh. “You’re _hopeless,_ Hajime,” he said. “Too much of a gentleman. When Matsukawa and I first got together, he threw me like a ragdoll, and—“

   Iwaizumi jabbed him under the ribs with the speed of an experienced friend, and Hanamakki doubled over.

   “I don’t want to hear about your weird sex life!” he said. “Especially not before a game.”

   “It wouldn’t hurt you, you know,” Hanamakki wheezed. “Maybe you could learn a thing or two—“

   Iwaizumi glared furiously at him, and Hanamakki got the hint. “Alright, alright,” he said. “I get it. I’ll shut up.”

   “I guess there’s a first for everything,” he said. “Anyway, that’s it. We watched a movie. We kissed. Anything else you need to know?”

   Hanamakki thought for a moment. “You gonna see him again?”

   “… Yeah,” Iwaizumi said. “I am.”

   “Ay, there’s the captain I know!” Hanamakki said, clapping him on the back. “Gettin’ that ass!”

   At this point, Iwaizumi was too mentally drained to argue with him anymore, and he sighed in resignation. “Yeah, sure. Whatever. Now go get on the bus.”

\--

   In retrospect, Iwaizumi thought, he should have been expecting this. There was no way that Oikawa would ever pass up an opportunity to embarrass him, and yet, it still came as a surprise to him when he walked onto the court and heard a voice from the stands yell:

   “Iwa-chan!”

   He spun around, and immediately saw Oikawa Tooru in the stands, wearing a t-shirt with an alien and the caption “Humans aren’t real,” and beaming uncontrollably. A little part of Iwaizumi instinctively told him to be mad, but he couldn’t fight off a smile. He waved back, and Oikawa looked delighted.

   “Kick their ass for me, darling!” he yelled, leaning dangerously far over the railing of the stands. Iwaizumi felt his shoulders droop.

   _Nope. Still an idiot._

   Iwaizumi returned to the court, and focused on ignoring Oikawa, who was dramatically blowing him kisses from the stands. Just then, Hanamakki walked up to him, staring at Oikawa.

   “Wow,” he said. “He sure is persistent.”

   “You have no idea,” Iwaizumi muttered. “Go warm up, will you?”

   Hanamakki slipped him a smirk, and walked back over to the net, where some of the other players were practicing blocks. Iwaizumi, meanwhile, surveyed the competition; they were a team from Toruno, Karsuno High School. Most of their players looked fairly capable, except for one little redhead in the front, whom he had originally thought to be one of the players’ younger siblings. No, Iwaizumi thought to himself, that was a player. _Interesting._

The whistle blew to start the first match, and Iwaizumi approached the other team’s captain. He was a little shorter than Iwaizumi, but about the same age. They shook hands appropriately, and returned to either side. As the sound of sneakers bounced off the walls of the gym, Iwaizumi shifted his weight into his legs, and smiled. This was it, he thought. He was back. This was okay. Outside of here, there were (probably) aliens, and freaky technology, and dark nights in the woods, but right now, he was in control. There was volleyball, there was competition and support from his teammates, and there was _Oikawa._

And that was all that mattered.

\--

   Karasuno played well; Iwaizumi was willing to admit that. It had been a close game, three matches, but Aoba Johsai had come out just on top. The little redhead player turned out to be a force to be reckoned with; Iwaizumi vowed to keep a better eye on him the next time.

   Once he’d finished showering, Iwaizumi returned to the locker room, and was greeted by cheers and enthusiastic claps on the back. Out of the crowd came Hanamakki and Mastukawa; Matsukawa had his arm slung casually around Hanamakki’s waist, and Iwaizumi sighed. There was no use in telling them to tone it down anymore.

   “Good going, captain,” Matsukawa said, one of his thick eyebrows cocked upwards. “You lead us to victory yet again.”

   “Don’t be such a tease, Issei,” Hanamakki said, smiling. “Our captain will always see us through.”

   They began to walk past him, and as they did, Hanamakki leaned over and whispered:

   “Your boyfriend’s waiting for you in the hallway.”

   Iwaizumi nodded; it was probably better to go and intercept Oikawa now, before he could cause any trouble, he thought. He quickly excused himself from the rest of the team, and went into the hall outside.

   The first thing he saw was a small group of the Karasuno players; they were still wearing their black and orange jerseys. The short redhead, the tall one with a crew cut, and the other shorty with the spiked hair, were standing behind their setter, who was talking angrily to…

   _Shittykawa._

Iwaizumi groaned, resting his head in his right hand. _What’s he gone and done now?_ He thought. _I can’t leave him alone for TEN MINUTES without him picking a fight._

As he got closer, Iwaizumi could hear bits of the conversation:

   “… it’s stupid,” the Karasuno setter was saying. “You probably watch too much bad TV or something.”

   _“You’re_ stupid,” Oikawa said, making a face at him. “Stupid!”

   “Are you sure you’re a third-year?!”

   “Actually, neither of us are,” Iwaizumi said, putting a hand firmly on Oikawa’s head. “Sorry, I didn’t realize he was going to be picking fights with you guys.”

   “Iwa-chan!” Oikawa whined, spinning around to face him. “He started it!”

   “YOU STARTED IT!” the setter yelled back.

   “What did he start?” Iwaizumi said calmly.

   “He insulted my shirt!” Oikawa said, gesturing at the alien.

   “And then he said I looked like a lizard!” Karasuno’s setter interjected.

   Iwaizumi bit back a laugh. _He does kind of look like a lizard,_ he thought. “Look,” Iwaizumi said firmly, looking at Oikawa. “You can’t go picking fights with first years.”

   “But—“

   “I don’t care what they said. Got it?”

   “… Fine,” Oikawa sulked, looking at the ground.

   The setter grinned triumphantly. “I—“

   “Am _incredibly_ sorry for the trouble, and will never do so again.”

   Karasuno’s team captain had appeared out of nowhere, clamping his hand over the setter’s mouth, despite being two inches shorter.

   “He will never do that again,” the captain— _Sawamura, maybe?—_ said pleasantly. “I really can’t let him out of my sight.” He looked back at the other three players, who had been watching the events unfold with an air of amusement. “And as for you three,” he said, and they immediately froze. “Locker room. Now.”

   They scurried off, and Sawamura turned back to Iwaizumi. “It’s alright,” Iwaizumi assured him. “Oikawa should really know better. I deeply apologize.”

   “Not at all,” he said, still keeping the setter’s mouth closed. “Thank you again, and sorry for the trouble. Kageyama,” he said. “Let’s go.”

   “BUT—“ he protested, managing to break through his captain’s grip. “STUPID ALIENS—“

   Iwaizumi managed to snatch the back of Oikawa’s collar just in time. “YOU’RE STUPID,” he said. “I—“

   Iwaizumi took a page out of Karasuno’s book, and clamped his hand over Oikawa’s mouth. “So sorry,” he said again. “I’ll keep a tighter leash on him next time.”

   “No, no, I’m sorry too!” Sawamura said, continuing to drag his struggling setter back to their lockers. “I will as well! Good luck!”

   Once Iwaizumi felt they had gotten a safe distance away, he removed his hand from Oikawa’s mouth, and reverted to keeping a tight grip on his collar.

   “Do NOT pick fights with the other teams,” he said firmly. “You realize it’s going to get ME in trouble, right?”

   “Iwa-chan, he started it!” Oikawa protested. “I _swear,_ he was the one who—“

   “Do not care,” Iwaizumi said. “Don’t start fights. That’s it.”

   Oikawa grumbled something incomprehensible. “… Maybe he was an alien,” he muttered angrily. “He was just mad that the one on my t-shirt was better-looking than him.”

   “Shittykawa, you can’t just accuse someone of being an alien just because you dislike them,” Iwaizumi said flatly.

   “It’s not just that I don’t like him!” Oikawa said. “Did you see him, Iwa-chan? He totally looked like a lizard! And he was TERRIBLE at social skills! CLEAR signs of an alien! Not to mention, he was drinking _milk._ Who drinks milk after a GAME?”

   “While I’m willing to agree that he did look kind of like a lizard, that doesn’t mean you can say that he’s an alien,” Iwaizumi said. “Maybe he’s just an awkward guy who likes milk.”

   “Too many factors, too much of a coincidence,” Oikawa muttered. “Definitely an alien.”

   Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, somewhere between amused and exhausted. “Ok, fine,” he said. “He’s an alien. Now will you quit picking fights? And don’t call me ‘darling’ in front of the team, by the way.”

   “Why not?!”

   “It’s embarrassing,” he snapped. “Not to mention, I’m not exactly ready to tell the whole world how into guys I am, alright?”

   “Fine,” Oikawa sighed. “But I’m still going to come to your games.”

   “That’s fine by me.”

   At this point, they were standing in front of the door to the locker room. Oikawa hesitated, and looked both ways, then turned back to Iwaizumi:

   “Um,” he said shyly. “Can I kiss you?”

   Iwaizumi gave up and put a hand on Oikawa’s hips. “Fine,” he said with a sigh, but he was smiling. “Come here.”

   He pulled Oikawa closer, and they kissed, only briefly before breaking apart. Oikawa beamed at him, and Iwaizumi couldn’t resist matching it.

   “I’ll see you in school tomorrow,” Iwaizumi said. “Meet me in the hallway again.”

   Oikawa nodded eagerly, and pecked Iwaizumi on the lips one more time. “Bye, Iwa-chan.”

   “Bye, Shittykawa.”

   He turned around to stick his tongue out at Iwaizumi, and disappeared down the hall. Suddenly, the door behind him opened, and a single outstretched hand appeared.

   “High-five, captain handsome,” a familiar voice said from inside.

   _“HANAMAKKI!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks for checking out this week's update. I plan to keep up this schedule until the end, which I am working on as we speak; I appreciate your patience, and most of all, your comments! I don't reply to every one of them, but I promise that I read them; they're what keep me going.  
> For those of you keeping up with Placebo, the next chapter will come up in a couple of weeks! It's a little over halfway done, so I'd like to think I'll have it finished (or close to finished) by the end of the year.  
> Drop me a line @sailor-rinn, or check out my studyblr, which I've recently restarted, @sapphostudying. Thanks guys, and I'll see you in two weeks!


	7. Cosmos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing is impossible--especially not with Oikawa Tooru.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys what's up it's me  
> You should read the end notes they're sort of important

   The next morning when Iwaizumi arrived at his locker, Oikawa was already waiting for him, bouncing back and forth on the balls of his feet. He ran up to Iwaizumi and brushed their hands together.

   “Morning, Iwa-chan,” he said happily. “Sleep well?”

   “Yeah,” Iwaizumi said, biting back the urge to rest a hand on his waist. “Don’t you have class?”

   “Not for ten more minutes,” Oikawa said. “I have time.”

   “Alright,” Iwaizumi said. “Fine. So what are you doing tonight?”

   “Nothing now,” he said, leaning against Iwaizumi. “Something in mind?”

   “Well, we have tonight off from practice, so I thought maybe we’d do something after school,” he said, trying to sound romantic.

   “I think I could fit that in,” he said. “Coffee?”

   “Sounds good.”

   Oikawa smiled and looked both ways, then, after seeing that it was clear, gave Iwaizumi a peck on the lips. “Great,” he said. “I’ll see you after school.”

    He bounded off towards his own class, and Iwaizumi stood in the hall, dazed and smiling. As he began pulling things out of his lockers, he heard a pair of heavy footsteps and hushed voices coming down the hall. Iwaizumi turned around, and saw two men walking swiftly down the hall, muttering to each other. Both of them wore black suits with matching ties, and had opaque earpieces. Iwaizumi watched as the pair approached a teacher, and they both pulled something out of their suits, which they showed the teacher. She looked concerned; they talked quietly for a moment, before she pointed them in the direction of the office. They both hurried off, and Iwaizumi frowned. He looked down at his watch; still seven minutes until class. Oikawa could see through his amateur-level espionage, but maybe these two wouldn’t.

   He followed them down the hall, and into where the principal’s office was. Iwaizumi followed them in, and pretended to be conveniently busy with a water cooler as they spoke:

   “… My name is Agent Izumaki, this is Special Agent Chamberlin, from the United States,” the man on the right was saying. “We’re here investigating a recent disturbance that took place less than a mile from here.”

   “A disturbance?” the principal asked. “What sort of disturbance?”

   “Several residents complained about odd noises and smells coming from the woods near a local convenience store,” Izumaki said. “Two days later, a man was reported missing in the same area. Is there anything you know that has happened that might be of any relevance to this?”

   “Not that I can think of, no,” he said. “What time were these taking place?”

   “Between eight and nine o’clock.”

   The principal thought for a moment. “You may want to ask some of the sports teams. Many of them have practices up until around that time, and I’m sure of them take that route home. One of them may have seen something.”

   “Thank you,” Izumaki said. “We’ll be in touch.”

   They left the office, not taking a second glance at Iwaizumi, who was watching them leave. _What the hell?_ He thought. _Could that have been about whatever Oikawa and I found? Someone DISAPPEARED? Shit. I need to find him as soon as possible._

He rushed out into the hall and looked around for Oikawa. _He must have already gone to class,_ Iwaizumi thought. _I’ll have to find him later. I hope nothing happens…_

\--

   Despite his best efforts, Iwaizumi was unable to find Oikawa for the rest of the day. Every single period dragged on for years, and everywhere he went, Iwaizumi was half-expecting the two government agents to appear behind him, demanding answers to questions about aliens and UFOs. When the day finally did begin to finish up, Iwaizumi lingered outside the door to Oikawa’s building, waiting. He hadn’t seen any of the agents since that morning, but he was still nervous.

   Finally, Iwaizumi spotted Oikawa’s brown curls above the mass of other students, and called out to him. Oikawa bounded up to him, looking chipper.

   “Ready to go, Iwa-chan?” he asked happily.

   “Yeah, but listen, Oikawa, something happened today,” Iwaizumi whispered, pulling him over to the side. Oikawa looked concerned. “Right after you left, there were these two guys… men from the government, one from America--”

   Oikawa’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. “What were they wearing?”

   “Black suits, but—“

   He gasped. “Men in black!”

   “That’s not the point,” Iwaizumi said. “Look, they were saying there have been weird disappearances and noises from over where we found that cube. They’re looking for people to question. Something is going on.”

   _“It’s the feds, Iwa-chan,”_ Oikawa whispered. “They’re onto us! This must be something really, really big…”

   “No shit,” he said. “Look, maybe we should stay away—“

   “No way!” Oikawa said. “Iwa-chan, this could be it! This could be the hard proof of aliens that I’ve only dreamed about!”

   “Are you out of your damn mind?” Iwaizumi hissed. “People are getting HURT.”

   “Amateurs,” Oikawa scoffed. “We know what we’re doing.”

   “I think that might be an exaggeration,” Iwaizumi said. “Look—let’s just go out, okay? Two hours. That’s all I ask. Two hours where we’re just on a normal date, with no aliens, or near death experiences, or men in black. Okay?”

   “Oh, alright,” Oikawa said dramatically. “If you insist.”

   Iwaizumi smiled, exhausted. “I do.”

\--

   A local café, Moi Coffee, provided some warm and welcome shelter from the rain that had started just as Iwaizumi and Oikawa ducked out of the train station. The food was inexpensive and rather tasty, and it was quiet inside. Iwaizumi watched Oikawa’s slender fingers wrap around a mug of coffee, bringing it up to his lips. He took a sip, and said:

   “Iwa-chan, is something wrong?”

   Iwaizumi jerked out of a trance. “What?” he said, surprised. “No, why?”

   “You’re staring at me.”

   “No, sorry,” he said. “I was just spacing out. I’ve been tired lately.”

   “You push yourself too hard,” Oikawa said with a frown. “Between school and volleyball, you’re going overexert yourself.”

   “It’s not as though I can really give any of those up,” Iwaizumi said. “I’ve got to do well in school, and I can’t just quit the volleyball team. I’m the captain, and I need to be there with them no matter what.”

   “You’re too loyal, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said. He was smiling. “You’re there for everyone else more than you’re there for yourself.”

   “That’s how I like it,” he said flatly. “I like the feeling of knowing that others are counting on me. It gives me motivation.”

   “You need someone to be there for you, too, you know,” Oikawa said.

   “Maybe I do.”

   Oikawa tilted his head into his left hand, tapping the fingers of his right hand softly on the table. “Maybe… I could help you out with that.”

   Iwaizumi smiled lazily at him, and laced their fingers together. “I think you can.”

\--

   When they left the café an hour and a half later, the rain had stopped. Oikawa held his hand out, and looked up at the darkening sky.

   “Finally, we can take our time,” he said. “Iwa-chan, can we--?”

   “Go to the woods?” Iwaizumi asked with a sigh. “Yeah, sure, but if anything even _starts_ to go wrong, we’re leaving. Got it? No risks this time.”

   Oikawa grinned. “Not a one! We’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

   They got off a station early to walk to the woods where they had found the cube. It had gotten rather dark, and there was no one out on the street.

   “… It’s quiet,” Iwaizumi said. “I wonder where everyone is.”

   “They’re probably home already,” Oikawa said. “It’s about dinner time.”

   “What about your parents?” Iwaizumi asked. “Aren’t they worried about you or something?”

   Oikawa shrugged. “They’re pretty used to me disappearing on and off for however long. I’ve never gotten in trouble or anything, so they don’t really worry.”

   “If only they knew…” Iwaizumi mused. Oikawa elbowed him in the side.

   As they approached their normal entrance spot, the pair was surprised to see that someone was already there—or, at least, someone _had_ been there. A black sedan was parked on the side of the road; no one was inside, but a mess of footprints was visible in the fresh mud, leading into the woods.

   _“Shit,”_ Oikawa muttered. “They’ve beaten us here.”

   “You think this belongs to the government people?” Iwaizumi said, gesturing to the sedan.

   “It has to,” he said.

   “We need to be _extra_ careful, then,” Iwaizumi warned. “That’s a level of trouble that neither of us can handle.”

   “It’s not like anyone is STOPPING us,” Oikawa muttered.

   “Just be careful, alright?” he said. “Don’t do anything stupider than usual.”

   Oikawa frowned stubbornly in his direction, but followed Iwaizumi into the trees anyway. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary; the footprints disappeared a few yards in, covered by the leaves and needles of the trees.

   “Where do you think they went?” Iwaizumi said quietly.

   “Let’s just go back to where we found that cube,” he said. “I bet they’re close.”

   Iwaizumi nodded, and they continued deeper into the woods. They walked for about ten minutes, before Iwaizumi spotted something on a nearby tree.

   “Hey,” he whispered. “Look at that.”

   He pointed to where a bright pink mark had been spray-painted on the trunk of a large oak tree. “That was definitely not there before,” Oikawa said. “What do you think it means?”

   “Could be nothing,” Iwaizumi said, walking up to it. He placed his hand on the tree, and felt something coat his fingers. When he looked down, there didn’t appear to be anything on him, but Iwaizumi could feel something on his skin.

   “Oikawa,” he said. “Come feel this.”

   “What is it?” he asked, walking up to Iwaizumi. He touched his fingers, and frowned. “It feels like metal dust. Was that on the tree?”

   “Yeah,” he said. “I don’t know. Let’s keep walking.”

   They continued forward, and after about a hundred yards, the sound of voices arguing became suddenly apparent. Iwaizumi seized Oikawa’s arm, and motioned at him to stay quiet. He nodded, and they slowly began to walk towards the sound. As they came closer, Iwaizumi could see a light peeking between the trunks of trees, blocked occasionally by the shapes of people running back and forth.

   When they were about fifteen feet away, they hid behind the trunk of a large pine tree, and watched in silence. There wasn’t much to see at first, but after a couple of seconds, a figure appeared.

   “Agent Honda,” a voice said. Their Japanese was a bit sloppy, meaning they were clearly foreign. Probably American, Iwaizumi thought, judging by the accent. “I’ve had the task force clear the area. There’s left nothing here but burn marks and residue.”

   “What happened to the craft?” the man he called Agent Honda said. “You’re not telling me it just took off, did it?”

   “No, the amount of metal we extracted was too significant for whatever crashed here to take off again,” he said. “They must have taken what was left and disappeared with it.”

   “I want every single available person searching the entire prefecture for any signs of that craft,” he said. “They don’t leave the ground.”

   The man appeared to incline his head, and disappeared. Another man approached.

   “Agent Chamberlin,” Honda said. “Have you found anything else?”

   _“That’s him,”_ Iwaizumi whispered to Oikawa. “He was at the school this morning.”

   Oikawa nodded, and narrowed his eyes. “Nothing,” Agent Chamberlin said. “My best guess is that they’ve transported everything somewhere, and will be attempting to rebuild.”

   “Will they be able to get what they need?”

   “They’re clever,” he said grudgingly. “I’m sure that they’ll be able to make it work. Like you said, Agent, we can’t let them leave.”

   “I have teams searching the area,” he said. “We’ll find them in no time.”

   The man nodded. “Good. I’m going to give Agent Thrush the clear. Are you ready?”

   Agent Honda nodded as well. “Yes. We have all evacuated.”

   Chamberlin pulled something out of his pocket, and spoke into it: “Agent Thrush, this is Chamberlin,” he said. “You’re clear to execute.”

   “Executing in ten, sir,” a voice said over the radio.

   Silence fell. Agent Chamberlain appeared to turn to where the light was emanating from; “It’s a real shame, huh?” he said.

   Agent Honda was silent for a moment as well. “It is.”

   Suddenly, there was a crack like a whip, and from deep within the woods, an explosion rocked the ground. Iwaizumi and Oikawa both yelped and fell backwards; unfortunately, the boom wasn’t enough to cover them, and both the agents whipped around.

   “Hey!” Agent Chamberlin yelled. “What the hell are you two doing?! HEY!”

   “Run!” Oikawa said, grabbing Iwaizumi’s wrist. “RUN!”

   They took off into the woods, the sound of Agents Chamberlin and Honda footsteps close in pursuit. There was shouting, and suddenly, more footsteps joined the chase. A _lot_ more.

   “Now you’ve gone and done it!” Iwaizumi said as they ran. “We’re gonna die for sure!”

   “Just keep running, okay?!” Oikawa said. “We’re not gonna die!”

   It didn’t appear that either of the agents were letting up, and Iwaizumi was starting to feel himself getting tired. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the cliff where he’d found Oikawa days earlier. He grabbed the other boy by the arm, dragging them off course and into a small indent in the face of the cliff. It was a tight fit, but they both managed to squeeze together.

   Footsteps came pounding into the clearing, and a man’s voice said:

   “Where’d they go?!”

   “I didn’t see them,” another man said. “Did anyone catch their faces?”

   “They looked like high schoolers,” Agent Chamberlin’s voice said. “Let them go. They’re not going to cause us any trouble.”

   “Are you sure?” the first man said.

   “Positive,” Chamberlin said. “No one’s going to believe them, anyway.”

   Slowly, the footsteps began to shuffle out. A few people lingered in the clearing; a pair of footsteps passed by them, so close that Iwaizumi clapped a hand over his and Oikawa’s mouths to silence their breathing. However, they didn’t seem to notice them, and eventually went away.

   Iwaizumi let out the breath he’d been holding, and relaxed slowly into the opening. “Fucking hell, Shittykawa,” he said. “We can’t just have a normal date, can we?”

   “Nope,” Oikawa said, giggling furiously. “Iwa-chan, I… I can’t believe we just got _chased by the feds…_ I can’t believe this is really happening. It’s like a movie.”

   “You’re out your mind,” Iwaizumi panted. “We could’ve been killed.”

   “But we weren’t,” he said. “And now there’s no denying it—the aliens are here!”

   Iwaizumi let out a groan, and leaned against the dirt wall. “I guess they are. Will you stop accusing people at school now?”

   “Fine,” he said. “I guess I can be wrong just this _once.”_

Iwaizumi opened his mouth, then shut it again and shook his head. “Oikawa Tooru,” he said. “It’s a goddamn good thing that you’re pretty.”

\--

   Iwaizumi had a match the next day, and he was not at all surprised to see Oikawa there, leaning over the railing and looking like an absolute fool. At this point, Iwaizumi thought, he was probably just doing it to be an ass. _How does he keep getting here, anyway?_

As he was warming up, Hanamakki approached him. “So,” he said, looking up at Oikawa. “That’s him, huh?”

   “Yup.”

   “The new love of your life.”

   “Hanamakki, shut up.”

   He laughed, and leaned against one of the benches. “Hey, you’re not so bad off, you know. I’m pretty sure every guy here wishes they had someone cheering for them from the stands.”

   Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

   “Well, except for me, of course,” he said. “I get all the motivation I need when Matsukawa’s playing in front. What a sight.”

   “That’s disgusting,” Iwaizumi said flatly.

   “I know,” Hanamakki said, making a kissy face at his boyfriend. Matsukawa returned it with the most deadpan wink Iwaizumi had ever seen.

   “You two are making me nauseous,” Iwaizumi said. “Go warm up or something.”

   “Don’t mind if I do.”

   “For VOLLEYBALL.”

   Hanamakki snickered as he walked away, and Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. _Insufferable bastards,_ he thought. _… They’re my best friends._

\--

   Nekoma, the school that Aoba Johsai was facing in that day’s match, put up an admirable fight, but Iwaizumi and his team were among the best for a reason. The match had been close, but they’d pulled through, despite Hanamakki and Matsukawa intentionally attempting to annoy him between plays by giving each other suggestive looks and hand gestures.

   After the game had ended, and Iwaizumi had scolded the other third-years for being “insufferable, horny, assholes,” a lecture which Hanamakki and Matsukawa had giggled their way through, he went to find Oikawa. As expected, the other boy was waiting for him in the hallway, beaming.

   “Iwa-chan!” he cried, practically jumping into his arms. “You did it!”

   “Yeah, we— _oof,_ Oikawa, get _off—_ we did it,” he said, attempting to keep the taller boy from knocking him flat. “Keep it together, there could be people around.”

   “Oh, would you relax?” Oikawa demanded. “Who’s gonna see?”

   A third voice chimed in. “I dunno, maybe the captain of the other team?”

   They both spun around; a guy was standing a couple of yards away, and Iwaizumi instantly recognized him from Nekoma—Kuroo-something, their captain. He had spiky black hair that covered one eye, and a cocky smile.

   “What do you want?” Oikawa said defensively, not removing himself from Iwaizumi.

   “Shittykawa, shut _up,”_ Iwaizumi hissed. “Sorry. Is there something I can help you with?”

   “No, I just wanted to say good game, but I can see that you’re… busy,” he said. He looked like he might say something else, but the door opened, and a girl came out. She was drastically smaller than Kuroo, so they almost looked like two different species. Her black hair was tied up in a bun, and a pair of glasses rested on her nose. On her shirt was a picture of an anthropomorphic dog dressed as Darth Vader, with the words “May the yiff be with you” underneath.

   “Senpai!” she said, running up to Kuroo. She stood on her toes, and he leaned down to kiss her. “You did so well! I don’t even care that you lost.”

   “Thanks, _nyangel,”_ he said, smiling. “I only need to hear that from you.”

   She smiled broadly, and Kuroo put an arm on her waist. “Anyway, I guess that’s all. You two enjoy your… whatever you’re doing, I guess.”

   Oikawa seized Iwaizumi and wrapped both arms around his neck, throwing up his left knee so that it reached Iwaizumi’s waist. “Maybe we will,” he huffed.

   “Get OFF of me,” Iwaizumi snapped. “What the hell are you doing?”

   “Proving that we’re the superior couple,” he hissed. “Iwa-chan, quick, I need you to make out with me.”

   “NO,” Iwaizumi said. “Absolutely not.”

   “But—“

   “OFF.”

   Oikawa finally relented, untangling himself from Iwaizumi, who turned back to the Nekoma captain.

   “Sorry about that,” Iwaizumi said. “I can’t let him off the leash for one second, you know?”

   “Oh, I know,” he said, winking at his girlfriend. She giggled.

   “… Right,” Iwaizumi said cautiously. “Anyway, we should probably be going. Good game, though.”

   “Good game.”

   They walked off, and Iwaizumi turned back to Oikawa. “I could kill you,” he said flatly.

   Oikawa grinned. “But you won’t.”

   “Not yet, anyway.”  
   “Oh, Iwa-chan, I know you’re playing,” Oikawa said, waving his hand dismissively. “If you didn’t have me around, what would you do about the aliens?”

   “Pretend like it wasn’t happening,” he said. “Anyway, since I guess you _are_ here, what do we do now? About the aliens, I mean?”

   “I’m not really sure,” Oikawa said thoughtfully. “It’s too dangerous to go back to the crime scene, since I’m sure there will be more government people there… I guess our best option is to wait it out and see what happens.”

   Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow. “Really? You? Suggesting that we ‘wait it out?’”

   “I can be patient, Iwa-chan!” he protested. “Just you watch. There’s no way this is all going to go away overnight. Something will happen, and then we’ll be back on the case.”

   “Only you could view that as a good thing,” Iwaizumi said. “Alright, we’ll wait it out. I have practice again tomorrow, but afterwards, we’ll do something, okay? Even if it’s just the walk home.”

   “Alright,” Oikawa said. He paused for a minute. “… I have an idea.”

   “What?”

   “I want to surprise you,” he said. “Let me pick something for tomorrow night.”

   “Go wild,” Iwaizumi said. “But nothing illegal.”

   “Not even a little bit?”

   “Not even a little bit.”

   “Fine,” Oikawa said, half-smiling. “You won’t be disappointed, Iwa-chan!”

\--

   The alien dreams returned again that night. He was in a house, but not his own; it was someplace far away, where everything was white and the sunshine was warm, and Oikawa Tooru was there with him. They lay on a white couch in a brightly lit room; Iwaizumi was in his volleyball uniform. Oikawa, who was half-asleep on his chest, wore an X-Files t-shirt, and little else. Iwaizumi ran his fingers through Oikawa’s brown curls, and the other boy stirred on his chest.

   “Did I wake you?” Iwaizumi asked apologetically. His voice was had that dream-like quality, where it didn’t seem to make a sound, but still managed to be the loudest thing in the room.

   “No,” Oikawa said pleasantly. “In a way, I’m always awake, Iwa-chan.”

   Iwaizumi was about to ask what that was supposed to mean, but then, Oikawa began to change before his eyes. His skin grew tighter, paler, and his eyes enlarged to a size that couldn’t possibly be human. Suddenly, Iwaizumi realized that the light filtering through the windows wasn’t sun, it was some sort of fluorescent artificial light, and they were being pulled upwards somehow, going who knows where—

   He woke up in a cold sweat, and quickly resolved to stop eating wasabi peas before bed.

\--

   The rest of the day was not quite as eventful. He didn’t see Oikawa the next morning as he had expected, and with the promise of tonight’s date, Iwaizumi found it difficult to concentrate on his classes. However, practice brought him back down to earth a bit; something about beating the crap out of a ball was extraordinarily stress-relieving.

   “Going out with your boyfriend again tonight?” Hanamakki asked as he pushed a mop across the gym floor.

   Iwaizumi frowned. “Normally, I’d tell you to mind your own business, but… how did you know?”

   “You were smiling to yourself during practice,” he said absentmindedly. “You’ve only started doing that recently. You must be in pretty deep, huh?”

   “I was?” Iwaizumi said. “You mean, I don’t normally do that?”

   “Nah, most of the time during practices, you look like you just really need to take a shit,” Hanamakki said, skillfully dodging a punch from Iwaizumi. “But ever since pretty geek boy came along, you’ve been all cute and smiley.”

   “Don’t call me cute,” Iwaizumi snapped. “But I guess it’s not so bad. Having someone, I mean.”

   “Well, whatever he’s doing, tell him to keep it up, because it’s a whole lot less depressing around here when you don’t walk around looking like you’re about to birth a pinecone,” he said. Iwaizumi made a _much_ more valiant effort to swing at him, and Hanamakki just barely escaped a bruised arm. “Jeez, Hajime, you’re actually going to hurt me one of these days.”

   “I swear to god, Hanamakki, you spend half your time practically _begging_ me to punch you,” Iwaizumi said. “Look, just give me the mop. Don’t you have to go, like, make out with Matsukawa or something?”

   “Uh, actually, I don’t have ‘sex with Matsukawa’ scheduled until 10:30,” he said, pretending to look at his phone. “But wow, you MUST be in a good mood if you’re actually telling me and Matsukawa to go bang in the locker room.”

   “That is not even CLOSE to what I said.”

   “But, to be fair, we were going to do it anyway,” he continued. Iwaizumi lowered his face into his hands, utterly defeated. “Hey, at least we clean up.”

   “I feel like you only do that because you know that I’ll shove your head all the way up your ass if you don’t.”

   “Maybe a little,” Hanamakki confessed. “But hey, you know what? We should go on a double date sometime.”

   “A _what?”_

   “A double date, stupid,” Hanamakki said. “You know, two couples, one date. You and your pretty boyfriend, me and Matsukawa. I’m pretty curious about this dream boy of yours. Sounds like a great idea.”

   “That sounds like the OPPOSITE of a great idea—“

   “I’ll put you down for Saturday,” Hanamakki said, clapping him on the shoulder. “You two be safe, now!”

   He dashed off before Iwaizumi could do anything to inhibit him. _An unstoppable force of nature,_ he thought to himself. _Shittykawa’s an unstoppable force, and Takahiro’s an unmovable object. And I’m stuck right in between the two._

 Speaking of Shittykawa, Iwaizumi realized a voice was calling for him from across the gym. Oikawa was walking in, waving; he was wearing a t-shirt with a pair of mountains on it, captioned “TWIN PEAKS.” There was a huge bag slung over his shoulders.

   “Iwa-chan!” he said. “Iwa-chan, are you ready?!”

   “Yeah,” Iwaizumi said. “Let me just—check on something in the locker room real quick.”

   He stuck his head into the locker room. It was silent, but just to be sure he called out:

   “If you two are in here—STOP.”

   There was no answer, but Iwaizumi thought for a moment he heard a giggle come from the showers. However, this was good enough for him, and he went back to Oikawa, who was waiting for him.

   “Sorry about that,” he said. “… You don’t want to know,” he added when he saw Oikawa open his mouth.

   “Okay,” Oikawa said, laughing. “I won’t ask, then. Anyway, let’s go! We have kind of a walk.”

   They left the gym, walking at a leisurely pace, and Iwaizumi said:

   “Where exactly are we going?”

   “It’s a _surprise,”_ Oikawa said. “You’ll know when we get there.”

   Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he said. “… What’s that on your shirt, anyway?”

   “My shirt?” Oikawa asked. “Oh!” He held it out so that Iwaizumi could see the logo in detail. “It’s Twin Peaks! It’s a TV show from America.”

   “What’s it about?”

   Oikawa grinned, and suddenly, Iwaizumi realized that he was in for a very, very long explanation. “Well, it starts with this girl, Laura Palmer, who’s found murdered on a beach…”

   As Iwaizumi had expected, this launched Oikawa into a twenty-minute explanation of _Twin Peaks,_ which, to give it the credit Iwaizumi felt it deserved, did sound pretty good. However, Oikawa was a master at drawing out explanations to almost _absurd_ lengths, and after he had just finished his in-depth analysis of the relationship of Sheriff Truman and Josie Packard, as it had developed up to Season one, episode five, he stopped, and Iwaizumi almost bumped into him.

   “We’re here!” he said happily. “It’s just through these woods. Come on, Iwa-chan.”

   “What are we doing?” Iwaizumi said again, as Oikawa dragged him through the trees.

   Oikawa pointed upwards, where the sky was just visible through the trees. “We’re stargazing!”

   A short, amused laugh escaped Iwaizumi’s throat. “I should have known,” he said, but he was smiling. “You’re always up in space one way or another.”

   Oikawa laughed, returning his smile. “Iwa-chan, you don’t even know the Big Dipper from Orion’s Belt. I was impressed that you even knew the North Star. You need an education!”

   “Teach me, then,” he said.

   Oikawa looked back at him over his shoulders, smiling. “I will.”

   The trees began to thin out, and suddenly, they emerged on the other side of the forest. The grass was soft underneath their feet, and above their heads, the night sky looked like a black pool, sparkling with tiny pinpoints of light. Iwaizumi gasped, looking around at the small area. He had no idea that such a place even existed.

   “It’s something, isn’t it?” Oikawa said, still smiling. “I used to come here a lot as a kid to watch the stars. I always thought that if I ever saw a UFO, it would be out here.”

   “Did you ever see one?”

   “No,” he confessed. “But I saw a lot of shooting stars. You know you’re supposed to wish when you see a shooting star?”

   “My mom used to tell me that,” Iwaizumi said. “What did you wish for?”

   Oikawa paused for a moment, keeping his gaze locked on the cosmos above their heads. “… That maybe, someday, I wouldn’t have to come out here alone.”

   Iwaizumi felt something swell up in his chest, like a shout, and he grabbed Oikawa’s hand, almost out of instinct. He laced their fingers together, and squeezed his palm.

   “I guess it actually worked, huh?”

   “Yeah,” Oikawa whispered, squeezing Iwaizumi’s hand in return. “Come on, Iwa-chan. Let’s look at the stars.”

\--

   From inside the bag, Oikawa managed to produce not only a blanket and modestly large telescope, but a lifetime supply of milk bread as well. They spread the blanket over the soft grass, and Oikawa set the telescope up on a flat bit of land near the blanket.

   “You can’t look through at telescope sitting down, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said. Iwaizumi stood up, and Oikawa guided him to the eye of the telescope. An orange and brown dot appeared through the lens.

   “… What am I looking at?” Iwaizumi said, squinting.

   “It’s Mars,” Oikawa said excitedly. “See the red? That’s all the iron! Here, you can adjust it with the knobs…”

   Oikawa helped him fiddle with a dial on the side of the telescope, and slowly, the view cleared up. He could see lines on the planet, and little deviations in color.

   “That’s amazing,” he said. “I’ve never really seen it before, except for pictures.”

   “It’s really out there,” Oikawa said happily. “It’s existing at the same time we are, and yet, we’re seeing it from so long ago. Space is weird.”

   “So are you.”

   “Must be why I like it so much.”

   Once they’d had their fill of planets, the pair lay down on the blanket to look at the stars. It wasn’t too cold out, and the grass felt cool against their backs.

   “Over there, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said, pointing at a line of stars. “That’s Orion’s belt.”

   “Where’s Orion?”

   “He’s the stars around it,” he explained. “And over there is Canus Major.”

   “What about the Big Dipper?”

   “That one’s the easiest,” Oikawa said, pointing to another cluster of stars. “The stars over there. They look like a spoon, see?”

   “Maybe if I squint,” Iwaizumi said.

   Oikawa sighed. “You just can’t _appreciate_ the mythology behind them.”

   “I mean, I think they’re cool!” Iwaizumi said defensively. “I just don’t see the shapes, that’s all.”

   “Well, look _harder,”_ Oikawa said. He scooted over on the blanket, and rested his head and arm on Iwaizumi’s chest.

   “I am looking!”

   Oikawa laughed. “Fine, fine. If you can’t identify the constellations, just lay back and appreciate the stars, okay?”

   “Mmm,” Iwaizumi said. He propped his head up on the backpack, and wound his fingers through Oikawa’s hair. He glanced back up just in time to see a flash of light race across the sky.

   “Did you see that, Iwa-chan?!” Oikawa cried, pointing to it. “It was a shooting star!”

   “Yeah, I did,” Iwaizumi said, amused.

   “Did you make a wish?”

   Iwaizumi hesitated. “Yeah. I did. Did you?”

   “Well of course.”

   “… What did you wish for?”

   Oikawa didn’t answer, but shifted himself on Iwaizumi’s chest. There was silence for a moment, then he said:

   “That maybe we can do this again.”

   The swelling feeling returned to Iwaizumi’s chest; it threatened to close off his throat, but he just barely managed to say:

   “Consider it granted.”

   Oikawa looked up, and smiled at him; it was a graceful, beautiful thing, with no trickery or mischief hidden behind its lines. Iwaizumi wondered if maybe his memory was failing him, because every time Oikawa looked at him like that, it was as though Iwaizumi was seeing him again for the first time. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. The swelling in chest blossomed, threatening to burst, and Iwaizumi heard himself say:

   “I—I love you.”

   Silence fell, and the blood rang in Iwaizumi’s ears. He could feel his own heartbeat inevitably pounding a rut into his ribcage, something Iwaizumi was sure that he’d pay for in later life. Oikawa turned onto his side, and looked up at Iwaizumi, clearly surprised. Slowly, his face turned into a broad smile, and he rested his chin on his hands, gazing at Iwaizumi.

   “I love you, too, Iwa-chan,” he said quietly.

   Iwaizumi’s arms wrapped around Oikawa’s shoulders, pulling him closer. With one hand, he tilted Oikawa’s head up, and with the other, held on to a handful of his t-shirt. Iwaizumi kissed him, and immediately, it felt like a bomb had gone off in his mind. Everything was disjointed and vague, like his brain was trying to process a thousand different images and sounds at the same time, then, like the eye of a storm, it all settled back to Oikawa Tooru.

   When they broke apart, neither of them spoke, but instead, just spent a couple of seconds staring at each other, panting. Oikawa broke out into a grin, and Iwaizumi followed suit.

   “So, you really mean it, then?” Oikawa asked. “You love me?”

   “Holy shit,” Iwaizumi said breathlessly. “You have no idea.”

   Oikawa laughed, _really_ laughed, beaming and wrapping his arms around Iwaizumi’s neck. “I love you, Iwa-chan!” he said excitedly. He said it over and over again, like it was a new language. “I love you!”

   “Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Iwaizumi said, but he was smiling so wide that his jaw ached. “I love you too.”

   “Really?”

   “How many times do I have to say it?”

   Oikawa thought for a minute. “At least six million.”

   “Six million?” Iwaizumi said. “That’ll take me at least fifty years.”

   He shrugged, not wiping the smile off his face. “I’m alright with that.”

   “Just promise me that we won’t spend fifty years looking for aliens?”

   “I can’t promise anything like that, Iwa-chan,” he said innocently. “After all, it sure does look like aliens are our thing.”

   “Uh, aliens are YOUR thing,” Iwaizumi corrected him. “My thing is staying alive, and making sure YOU do the same.”

   “If you insist,” Oikawa said. “But somehow, Iwa-chan, I feel like you’ll never be able to stay away from a little bit of misadventure.”

   Iwaizumi took a very deep breath. “As long as you stick with me, I think I can be okay with that.”

   Oikawa beamed at him. “Are you sure? Because you’ll be stuck with me forever, you know. And forever is a pretty long time.”

   Iwaizumi kissed his forehead. “I’m sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back by unpopular demand, it's me  
> If you're wondering about Kuroo's "girlfriend" rest assured that it's an inside joke of sorts. (Kuroo is a furry confirmed)  
> Anyway, thanks for sticking through another chapter! At this point, I can tell you all that this is more than halfway through; there's still plenty more misadventures to come!  
> Hit me up @Sailor-rinn with questions, comments, concerns, and/or witty insults


	8. Double Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iwaizumi tended to mark Oikawa as "paranoid." But, every once and a while, he did have a point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY CRAP I FORGOT TO UPDATE I'M SO SORRY GUYS

   The next day at school, Iwaizumi was looking forward to a brief streak of normalcy. There had been no aliens last night—a record, really—and practice resumed today. He was still sky-high from his date with Oikawa the night before, and for the first time in what felt like _weeks,_ he had gotten a decent night’s sleep.

   All that being said, it was obvious that such a thing would be too good to be true.

   “Iwaizumi Hajime?”

   Iwaizumi turned around from his locker. Bearing down on him was a pair of eyes hidden under a prominent brow. A tall man—taller than Iwaizumi—stared down at him.

   “Y—Yes,” he said, clutching his books a little tighter.

   “My name is Agent Arakawa, this is Agent Foreman,” he said, gesturing to a man standing beside him, who Iwaizumi hadn’t even noticed at first. “We need to ask you a few questions.”

   “Uh,” Iwaizumi said. “I have… class.”

   “We’ve already spoken to your teachers,” Agent Arakawa. “You’re cleared to come and speak to us. For any amount of time.”

   The end of that sentence seemed to have a rather grave inflection, and Iwaizumi nodded. “Uh, yes sir,” he said. “Where would you--?”

   “The office is fine,” he said. “Hopefully, this won’t take very long.”

   The two agents led Iwaizumi down the hall. With every step, he could feel his heartrate increasing. _Did they spot us?_ He thought. _I thought we had gotten away, but I could have been wrong. What if they know about the cube? Have they already spoken to Oikawa? He won’t tell them anything, I don’t think, but he’ll probably get himself into trouble somehow._

They entered the principal’s office, and Iwaizumi sat in a chair facing the two agents. One of them— _Foreman?_ he thought--pulled out a notebook.

   “Hajime,” he said. “You’re part of the volleyball team? The captain, I see?”

   “Yes sir.”

   “You attend all the games and practices.”

   “It’s my responsibility as captain to do so.”

   “How late do your practices typically run? Which days do you have them?”

   Iwaizumi hesitated. “Every day after school except for Monday. They usually go until about seven, maybe later if there’s a game.”

   Agent Foreman scribbled something down. “And after practice, do you usually go straight home?”

   “Yes, sir.”

   “Where is that?”

   Iwaizumi told him his address, and Agent Foreman nodded, writing it down. “So on your way home, you pass the convenience store and the woods nearby?”

   He nodded. “Have you seen anything… unusual?” Agent Foreman peered at him over a pair of wire-rimmed glasses. “Any strange noises, strange people hanging around?”

   “No, sir.”

   “Have you been in the woods at all?”

   Iwaizumi swallowed. “No sir.”

   Agent Foreman leaned forward, and Iwaizumi bit down on his tongue. “Not at all?”

   “I don’t really have a reason to, no.”

   Agent Foreman didn’t lean back, and sweat began to bead at the base of Iwaizumi’s neck. It was as though the copper eyes behind Agent Foreman’s glasses could see right through him; as though Iwaizumi was made of glass.

   “… Alright then,” he said, finally reclining against the couch. “In that case, you can go. However, can I expect you to keep an eye out for anything suspicious?”

   “Y-Yes,” Iwaizumi stammered. “Definitely.”

   “And…” he raised an eyebrow. “You’ll turn over anything— _odd_ that you may find to the police?”

   Iwaizumi looked him in the eyes, and swallowed. “Yes.”

   “Very well then,” he said. “You may go to class, Hajime.”

   He left the office, unnerved and shaking. _They know something,_ he thought. _They’ve got to know something, why else would they ask specifically about evidence? Or the woods? They’ve got to know what’s happening somehow, and if they know that I’m involved, they DEFINITELY know about Oikawa._

Iwaizumi bit his lip. _What class is he in? 3C? I think it’s 3C. God, I hope it’s 3C._

He jogged up to where Oikawa’s supposed to classroom was, and took a deep breath in front of the door. _Please,_ he thought. _Let no one question this. Just let things go right for once._

He opened the door, and was met with a room full of questioning stares. Iwaizumi’s eyes darted around the room, and much to his relief, he spotted Oikawa in the back, looking puzzled. He looked to the teacher, who was standing in the front of the room:

   “Excuse me, Sensei,” he said. “But I need to borrow Oikawa Tooru for a moment.”

   “…” She didn’t respond;  Iwaizumi’s lungs seized up. “… That’s fine,” she said; he let out a sigh of relief. “But please be back quickly.”

   “We will,” Iwaizumi assured her, and ushered Oikawa outside.

   “Iwa-chan?” he said, concerned. “What’s going on? Are you alright?”

   “I’m fine, but listen,” he said. “Two government agents stopped me on my way to class a few minutes ago and questioned me. They wanted to know if I had gone in the woods, and if I’d seen anything ‘unusual.’ They also made sure to tell me to turn over anything ‘odd’ that I find.”

   Oikawa’s eyes widened. _“They’re onto us, Iwa-chan,”_ he whispered urgently. “Did you tell them anything?!”

   “No, of course not,” he said. “But I wanted to warn you in case they come looking for you, too.”

   He nodded understandingly. “Thank you. I’ll keep an eye out. In the meantime, keep a low profile. We shouldn’t do anything to attract attention.”

   “Agreed,” Iwaizumi said. “I’m worried about the cube. What if they go to my house? Can they even do that, just search my room?”

   “If you want, I can go get it after school today,” Oikawa said. “It’s not a perfect solution, but then we’ll at least know where it is.”

   “Yeah, that would be good, actually,” he said. “I’ll tell my mom you’re coming. Just say you’re a friend of mine, I’m sure she won’t mind.”

   “Alright,” Oikawa said. “I’ll do that. I’ve gotta go back to class—I’ll find you after practice tonight with the cube.”

   “Got it.”

   Oikawa returned to his classroom, and Iwaizumi let out another sigh of relief. It wasn’t often that things went off without a hitch, but between the near-death experiences and close encounters of the third kind, he felt like the cosmos owed him a little good luck.

\--

   “Hey, Hajime.”

   Iwaizumi looked up from his clipboard, which was littered with notes on different volleyball plays. Hanamakki was walking towards him, a ball resting casually between his hip and forearm.

   “You see those suits walking around school earlier?”

   Tension clenched at his heart and lungs. “Uh,” Iwaizumi said nervously, “I saw them once or twice, I think.”

   “Wonder what they were here for,” he said. “D’you think it was one of the students? I wonder who got busted. And for what.”

   “Maybe it was something else,” Iwaizumi suggested. “Like, something around the school, and they were just checking if everything was alright.”

   “I guess it’s possible,” Hanamakki said with a shrug. “But I haven’t really heard about anything happening. They wouldn’t send the suits down to a high school unless something really major took place.”

   “I don’t know, then,” he said. “Anyway, don’t you have cleaning to do?”

   “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he said. “I’ll get to it. Anyway, you’re still booked for Saturday. I wasn’t joking.”

   Iwaizumi gave him what he hoped was a look of disgust. “Seriously? You’re really making me chaperone you two?”

   “It’s not chaperoning, it’s a double date,” Hanamakki said, rolling his eyes. “Besides, I already told Matsukawa. He’s been in a mood lately since we haven’t gone out as much, so help me win some points, okay?”

   “Takahiro, it doesn’t matter where we are or how many people are there, I’m always chaperoning you,” Iwaizumi said flatly. “… I didn’t realize Matsukawa was such a romantic.”

   “I didn’t either,” he said. A smirk was playing suspiciously across his face. “He spoils me, I admit it. Oh, you should have been there for Valentines Day… Now, there’s a night I’ll never forget—“

   “STOP,” Iwaizumi said, holding up a hand. Hanamakki sniggered, please with his ability to irk his captain. “… You know,” Iwaizumi continued, glaring at him, “someday, I’m not going to interrupt you, and you can just finish the sentence and embarrass yourself.”

   “Hajime, Hajime, Hajime,” Hanamakki said, shaking his head. “The problem with embarrassment is that you have to assume I have any _shame.”_

“No shame, huh?” Iwaizumi said. “So you wouldn’t mind if I told the other guys, then? ‘Hey, everyone—Matsukawa and Hanamakki have been fucking in the showers, so please make sure you wear shoes—“

   “Ok, ok, I get it,” Hanamakki said, swatting at him. “But look, you’re coming Saturday whether you want to or not. I’ll get your boyfriend in on it too, if I have to.”

   “Fine,” Iwaizumi said. “Saturday it is, then. But neither of you two had better pull something.”

   Hanamakki grinned and held up his hands in mock surrender. “Hajime, me, pull something? I don’t know where you’d ever get the idea.”

   Iwaizumi shook his head, and out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Oikawa coming in through the doorway. Hanamakki noticed this as well, and wiggled his eyebrows; Iwaizumi did his best to shoot him a threatening look.

   “Hi, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said, bouncing up to him. “Ready to go?”

   “Uh,” Iwaizumi said, aggressively ignoring Hanamakki grinning and mouthing the word “Iwa-chan” at him. “Sure. Give me one second.”

   He went to grab his bag, “accidentally” kicking Hanamakki in the shins as he walked, and returned. “Alright,” he said. “We can head out.”

   “Seeya, Captain Handsome,” Hanamakki sniggered. Iwaizumi had a brief encounter with a heart attack, but fortunately, Oikawa didn’t seem to notice.

   “I got the cube,” Oikawa said quietly as they left the gym. “Your mom is really nice. She complimented my t-shirt.”

   “She’s pretty good,” Iwaizumi agreed. “Those agent guys didn’t stop you at all?”

   “I expected them to, but no,” he said. “I didn’t see them at all, actually.”

   “Weird,” Iwaizumi said. “Maybe it was just a fluke.”

   “Maybe.”

   His minded drifted briefly to the conversation he’d had with Hanamakki, and Iwaizumi gritted his teeth. “Uh, Oikawa,” he said. The other boy looked up. “So, that uh… the guy I was talking to—“

   “Hanamakki, right?”

   “Yeah, Hanamakki,” Iwaizumi said. “Look, he and his boyfriend, uh Matsukawa—the one you only saw briefly—“

   “With the nice ass?”

   _“Please_ don’t say that,” he said forcefully. “But yes, the one with— _that,_ I guess. Look, the point is, Hanamakki and Matsukawa want to go on a double date this Saturday, and there’s no way I’m gonna be able to shake them, so I was wondering if, you know… you wanted to go?”

   Oikawa’s face lit up. “Of course!” he said. “That sounds great! Where are we going?”

   “I don’t really know yet,” Iwaizumi said, massively relieved by his boyfriend’s enthusiasm. “Hanamakki is kind of… spontaneous, I guess. I’ll probably just have to text you.”

   “That’s fine,” Oikawa said cheerfully. “I’m excited. I was kind of curious to meet the other players, anyway.”

   “Trust me, by the time you get done with this date, you’ll have had your fill,” Iwaizumi said. “But yeah, I’m glad you’re okay with it, because otherwise, I would _never_ get Hanamakki off my back.”

   “I’ll be looking forward to it,” he said. “I just like spending time with you, Iwa-chan.”

   Iwaizumi flushed a bit, and took Oikawa’s hand in his own and squeezed it. “You’re not so bad either, Shittykawa.”

   Oikawa squeezed back.

\--

   The rest of the week all felt as though it was building up to Saturday. Aoba Johsai didn’t play another game until the following week, so there was nothing to break the anticipation, and on Saturday afternoon, Iwaizumi found himself standing in front of the mirror for much longer than he could remember ever doing.

   _Why the hell won’t my hair lie down?_ he thought to himself, running a comb through his hair, which was standing bolt upright like he’d been electrified. _Is it that much to ask? Just once?_

“Hajime,” his mother’s voice said. She peered through the door, looking amused. “What on earth are you doing? Do you have a date?”

   “Uh, I’m just going out with friends,” he said quickly.

   “I see,” his mother said. “Well, be safe, and text me if anything happens.”

   “I will.”

   She began to leave, then stopped. “Oh, and Hajime,” she said. A knowing smile flashed across her face. “Please bring him by to meet me sometime, okay?”

   It took Iwaizumi a moment to process what she said. The comb fell to the floor, and Iwaizumi dashed out of his room, nearly tripping over the carpet.

   “M-Mom!” he yelled. “Wait—w-what are you—?!”

   “It’s that pretty young man that came by the other day, isn’t it?” she said, apparently unfazed by her son’s panic. “He couldn’t stop talking about you. Wanted to know what you were like as a little kid, and I couldn’t resist telling him.” She giggled. “He calls you ‘Iwa-chan,’ Hajime. Of course I knew.”

   Iwaizumi stood in the hallway, deflated and confused. “So… you’re not mad?

   “About what?”

   “That I’m… dating a guy?”

   His mother paused for a moment. “… Are you doing well in school?”

   “Yes.”

   “Working hard at volleyball?”

   “Yes.”

   “Not doing anything illegal? Taking drugs? Having unprotected sex?”

   “N-No!” Iwaizumi stuttered. Something about hearing his mother say the word “sex” was still just a bit unsettling.

   “Then I don’t have anything to be mad about,” she said with a smile. “A little mad that you didn’t let me meet him earlier, maybe. But, Hajime, I don’t mind if you love another boy. Just as long as you love someone, okay?”

   It was like sinking into a warm bath; all of Iwaizumi’s muscles relaxed, and he could feel hundreds of pounds of weight melting off his shoulders. He couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, mom,” he said, and he genuinely meant it. “I’ll… Bring him by sometime. I promise.”

   “Alright,” she said, still smiling. “Tell him your mother says hello. And stop worrying about your appearance, you look fine. Go out and have fun.”

   He nodded, still a little dazed, and she disappeared into her room. A grin spread across Iwaizumi’s face, and he leaned against the wall. A weak laugh escaped him; _oh thank god,_ he thought. _Oh thank god that’s over. Thank god._

_…_

_What did she tell him when he asked about me as a kid?_

This, Iwaizumi decided, was a distressing question that could be answered later. He only hoped that it wouldn’t come back to haunt him _too_ soon.

   At 6:30, he walked outside, and Oikawa was waiting for him. He was wearing the skinny khaki pants again, with a light jacket, and a v-neck t-shirt that said “Nobody knows I’m an alien.” Iwaizumi remembered how his mom had described Oikawa: _pretty._ Sometimes, he forgot just how right she was.

   “Hi, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa said, walking up to him. “Ready to go?”

   “Yeah,” he said. “Hanamakki and Matsukawa are going to meet us at the restaurant. It’s just a casual place, so don’t worry.”

   “Alright,” Oikawa said. “Hey, Iwa-chan—I’ll race you to the train station.”

   “What?” he said. Oikawa was already long gone. “Hey, wait, that’s not fair! Shittykawa, you—ARGH!”

\--

   When they reached the restaurant, panting and out of breath, Matsukawa and Hanamakki were waiting for them, looking much less worn-out.

   “Did you two run here?” Matsukawa asked, raising one thick eyebrow. “Or were you just getting some energy out before the date started?”

   “Don’t,” Iwaizumi panted, “Be… Gross…”

   Matsukawa chuckled, and turned his attention to Oikawa. “So, you must be the Oikawa Tooru I’ve heard so much about,” he said. “I’m Matsukawa Issei. Hanamakki says you’ve already met.”

   “Nice to meet you,” Oikawa said. “I hear a lot about both of you, too.”

   Hanamakki and Matsukawa both looked at Iwaizumi, smiling. _They’re like a hive mind…_ he thought.

   “Really?” Hanamakki inquired. “Like what?”

   “Just that you’re, like, close friends and all,” he said, and Iwaizumi breathed a sigh of relief. “And that you’re secretly dating.”

   “Sounds about accurate,” Hanamakki said. “Hey, let’s cut the small talk, I’m hungry.”

   “Waiting on you,” Iwaizumi said, gesturing to the door.

   They walked inside and found a table, and after a brief ordering process, Matsukawa turned to Oikawa and said:  
   “So, how did you two meet?”

   Oikawa opened his mouth, but was quickly cut off by Iwaizumi. “We ran into each other walking home,” he said. “We both live in the same neighborhood.”

   Oikawa pouted slightly, and Iwaizumi gave him a nudge under the table. Maybe someday, he and Hanamakki could know the full story, but… not right now. Besides, saying they met on the way home wasn’t a _complete_ lie.

   “It takes a special kind of person to seduce our captain, you know,” Hanamakki said, resting his chin in his hands. If it hadn’t been for a fear of accidentally hurting Oikawa, Iwaizumi would have kicked him. “Tell us a little about yourself.”

   “This isn’t an interview,” Iwaizumi said flatly.

   “Don’t worry, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said, waving his hand. “It’s okay.” He turned back to the other couple. “I’m the president of the science-fiction club.”

   “The science fiction club?” Matsukawa asked, raising an eyebrow. “Really? What do you do?”

   “We analyze popular science fiction, read a lot of books, watch movies, etcetera,” Oikawa said. “I guess it’s almost more of a book club in a lot of ways.”

   Matsukawa looked up at Iwaizumi. “I didn’t know you were into science fiction. Other than Godzilla, that is.”

   Iwaizumi muttered something about “don’t bring Godzilla into this,” but was overshadowed by Oikawa:

   "He’s not, but I’m working on him. That was our first date, you know. Watching Godzilla.”

   Matsukawa gave him an odd look. “Godzilla? That’s not very romantic.”

   _“Maybe not to you,”_ Iwaizumi said through gritted teeth.

   “Romance movies are overrated anyway,” Oikawa said. “What about you two? How did you start going out?”

   Matsukawa and Hanamakki looked at each other, and grinned. _Uh-oh,_ Iwaizumi thought. He looked at Oikawa; _he has no idea what he’s gotten us into now._

“Well, it started at the end of second year,” Hanamakki said, leaning his head against Matsukawa’s shoulder. It would have been cute if they weren’t already so gross, Iwaizumi thought. “I think it was around March…”

   “Wait,” Iwaizumi said. “You two have been together THAT LONG?”

   “Don’t interrupt, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa scolded him.

   “Yeah, Iwa-chan, don’t interrupt,” Matsukawa said. Iwaizumi frowned at him. “But yeah, it has been that long. You’re a little bit oblivious, Hajime.”

   “Fine, fine,” Iwaizumi said. “Go on.”

   “Anyway, there was one day that you left practice a little earlier than usual,” Hanamakki continued. “Normally, you’re the last to leave, but this time, it was just Issei and I. I was taking a shower, and Issei decided to prank me by taking my towel. In retrospect, I’m pretty sure he was just eager to see me naked.”

   “It’s true,” Matsukawa said with a shrug. “Have you seen that ass? I had to get creative.”

   “Well, it worked,” Hanamakki said, ignoring the blatant look of disgust that Iwaizumi was giving them. Oikawa, meanwhile, looked utterly amused. “Because I’d had a crush on Issei since he bought me a soda at the beginning of first year. So, I walked out…”

   “… And I said, ‘Damn, Takahiro, did you sit in sugar? Because you’ve got a sweet ass.’” Mattsukawa said. Hanamakki grinned at him.

   “Oh my god,” Iwaizumi said, rubbing his temples. “You two are—“

   “And the rest is history,” Hanamakki said. “What happens in the locker room stays in the locker room.”

   “… Where in the locker room?”

   “The bench,” Matsukawa said.

   “WHICH bench?”

   They both smirked. “All of them,” Matsukawa said.

   Iwaizumi groaned, lowering his head into his hands, while the other two cracked up. Even Oikawa was snickering at this point.

   “Remind me to have them bleached before practice next time,” Iwaizumi said flatly.

   Hanamakki brought a hand to his forehead in a pretend salute. “Will do, Captain Iwa-chan, sir.”

\--

   For what it was worth, Iwaizumi figured, the rest of the date went pretty well. Hanamakki and Matsukawa seemed to genuinely like Oikawa, and the three of them occasionally ganged up to tease Iwaizumi. Occasionally, it was the other way around. Regardless, by the time the four of them left the restaurant, they were all smiling.

   “We’d better get going,” Iwaizumi said, putting an arm around Oikawa’s waist. “I’ll see you guys at school.”

   “Sure thing,” Matsukawa said. “Glad we got to meet the boy who captured the captain’s heart.”

   Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, and Oikawa laughed. “It wasn’t easy.”

   “Come on, Issei,” Hanamakki said, slipping a hand into the back pocket of Matsukawa’s jeans. “Let’s get back before my parents come home.”

   Matsukawa winked at Iwaizumi over his shoulder, and Iwaizumi gave him a look. He turned back to Oikawa, and said:

   “Alright.” He took the other boy’s hand. “Let’s go. I’ll walk you home.”

   “Thanks, Captain Handsome.”

   “Oh, don’t you start too,” Iwaizumi snapped. “It’s bad enough I’ve got those two on my ass.”

   “I dunno,” Oikawa said. “I like it.”

   “I swear to god, Shittykawa—“

   Oikawa sniggered. “Okay, okay,” he said. “Come on, we can make the next train if we hurry.”

   They made it to the train station just in time. There was an open seat in the back, and they both sat down. Iwaizumi remembered something he’d meant to ask earlier;

   “Oikawa,” he said. “When you went to my house earlier… what did you talk to my mother about?”

   “Your mother?” Oikawa asked. “Oh, she was nice. Really loved talking about what you were like as a baby, Iwa-chan…”

   “What did she show you?”

   “Oh, not a lot,” Oikawa said, fiddling with something on his phone. “But she DID tell me about the time you filled the toilet with rice…”

   He flashed his phone screen at Iwaizumi. On it, was a picture of him as a child, half-naked and beaming next to a toilet that was filled to the lid with rice.

   “GIVE ME THAT,” Iwaizumi yelled, lunging for the phone. Oikawa held it above his head. “OIKAWA TOORU, I SWEAR TO GOD—“

   “It’s cute, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa said, a shit-grin plastered across his handsome face. “Look at you! You thought you were helping!”

   “I’LL KILL YOU,” Iwaizumi said, attempting to grab the phone out of Oikawa’s hand. Oikawa may have been taller, but Iwaizumi was much more muscular, and finally succeeded in pinning him down long enough to take the phone.

   “Don’t be a spoil-sport!” Oikawa said; his voice was muffled from Iwaizumi’s hand pressed against his face.

   “I can’t believe you took a picture,” Iwaizumi muttered, as he located the “delete” function. “I can’t believe my mother showed you this…”

   “She seemed to like me,” Oikawa said through Iwaizumi’s fingers.

   “Yeah,” Iwaizumi said. “Uh, actually… about that.”

   Oikawa stopped fighting him and sat up. “What?”

   “She…” Iwaizumi stared at the ceiling of the train. “She knows. About us.”

   Oikawa was silent for a moment. “… How?”

   “Well, dumbass, you practically said it,” Iwaizumi said. “Asking her about my childhood and calling me Iwa-chan? You’d have to be totally oblivious not to notice.”

   “Oh,” Oikawa said. He looked as though this possibility had genuinely not occurred to him. “Huh. I mean… is she okay with it?”

   “It’s fine,” he said. “She… just wants to meet you now.”

   “Meet me?!” Oikawa cried, faking an over-dramatic gasp. “Meet your PARENTS, Iwa-chan?! That’s so intense!”

   “It’s not that intense,” Iwaizumi said. “You’re making it into too big of a deal.”

   “Not that I blame her of course,” Oikawa said. He didn’t appear to be listening. “After all, who wouldn’t want to meet ME…”

   Iwaizumi was about to scold him, when he heard the intercom on the train beep:

   “Now arriving at Jigenji Station… Now arriving at Jigenji Station…”

   They both stopped. “… Wait,” Oikawa said. “Weren’t we supposed to get off at…?”

   “Fukuoka?” Iwaizumi said. “Yeah. We were.”

   “That was three stations ago!” Oikawa cried. “What should we do—“

   “Let’s just get off here,” Iwaizumi said. “I know this area, I can get us back. It’s not too far of a walk.”

   Oikawa nodded, and they disembarked from the train. The station around them was empty; it wasn’t all that late, but night had already fallen.

   “Come on,” Iwaizumi said, gesturing to their right. “This way.”

   They began to walk. “I can’t believe we missed the station,” Oikawa said. “This is your fault.”

   “How the hell is it my fault?!”

   “You were the one who tried to kill me to get to my cellphone,” he said flatly. “If you had simply allowed me one singular pleasure in life, Iwa-chan, this wouldn’t have happened.”

   “That’s YOUR fault,” Iwaizumi said. “You took the stupid picture to begin with!”

   “Well, YOU—“

   “E-Excuse me?”

   A third voice entered the conversation. They both looked up, and saw a middle-aged woman hobbling towards them. Her hair was full of sticks and leaves, and her clothes were dirty. Scratches covered her face and arms.

   “Excuse me?” she repeated. Her voice was hoarse.

   “Miss?” Iwaizumi said, running up to her. “Miss, are you alright?”

   “Where… where am I?” she asked. “Where is this?”

   “This is the Fukodachi neighborhood,” Iwaizumi said. “What happened to you? Are you hurt?”

   “I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t remember, I’ve been walking for hours…”

   “What’s your name?” he said. “Can you tell me who you are?”

   “Fujimoto Akane,” she said. “I… my wallet…”

   She reached into a bedraggled handbag. “It’s still in here.”

   “Do you have a phone?” Iwaizumi asked. “Someone you can call?”

   “N-No,” she said, digging around the handbag. “No, my phone is gone… and… and so are my keys…”

   “Do you remember at all what happened to you?”

   The woman paused. She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath; “Light,” she said slowly. “There was… lots of light. I wasn’t in any pain. And then there was a smell, an awful smell, like… like…” she stopped and opened her eyes. “Like fish. Fish and motor oil.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHEW. That was embarrassing. Sorry about the lateness. Anyway, back to the plot! I swear this is going somewhere.  
> Speaking of going somewhere, I'm running out of pre-written chapters. The idea of updating every two weeks is nice, but it may start being a little more sparse. Sorry guys, but I promise, between this and Love Live, I'm working hard!


	9. Alien vs. Teenager

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cleanup on aisle nine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bigfoot is real and we did MDMA behind a Krispy Kreme once

   Iwaizumi felt his organs drop down into his shoes. He looked at Oikawa over his shoulder, and saw that he had clearly reached the same conclusion; his boyfriend’s eyes were the size of dinner plates. They made brief eye contact, where Oikawa mouthed _“aliens”_ at him, then Iwaizumi turned back to the woman.

   “Okay,” he said slowly. “Do you remember anything else? Was anything else taken from you? Where did you wake up?”

   “Not really,” she said. “I think it’s only my phone and keys…” she looked through her wallet. “No, nothing else. All of my money is still here, and my credit cards.”

   “Oikawa, call the police,” Iwaizumi said over his shoulder; Oikawa nodded. He looked back to the woman. “What about where you woke up? Can you remember anything?”

   “I think… the first street I remember seeing was Hiro…” she said.

   Iwaizumi frowned. “Were you in a house?”

   “No,” she said. “No, no one lives on Hiro… it’s all old abandoned buildings…”

   “And that’s all you know?”

   She nodded. “Alright,” Iwaizumi said. “Here, come sit down. The police are on their way. Do you want to call anyone?”

   “I can’t remember any phone numbers…” she said quietly. “I’ll just wait until I talk to the police…”

   Iwaizumi helped her to the side of the road, where she sat down on the curb. He then walked to Oikawa, who whispered:

   “Holy _shit,_ Iwa-chan.” He looked quickly over to the woman, then back to Iwaizumi. “Do you know what she is?”

   “A scared woman who needs help,” Iwaizumi whispered back. “Don’t go talking to her about aliens or something.”

   “She’s an _abductee,”_ he hissed. “I’ve never even MET one! She could know something, something about the aliens!”

   “She already told us everything she knows,” Iwaizumi said. “She’s scared out of her mind, don’t say anything else to her.”

   Oikawa muttered something incomprehensible, but relented. The lights of a police car turned the corner, and a squad car pulled up alongside of them. A police officer stepped out.

   “Did you call about the missing woman?” he asked.

   “Yes, that was us,” Iwaizumi said. “She’s over here.”

   He brought the officer over to where the woman was, and they began to talk. After they had finished, the officer walked back to Iwaizumi and Oikawa.

   “She looks like she’s okay, but I need you both to fill out an incident report, okay?” he said.

   “That’s fine,” Iwaizumi said. “Just tell us what to do.”

\--

   After half an hour in the police station, Iwaizumi and Oikawa were released, and one of the officers was kind enough to give them a ride back to Iwaizumi’s house. He left, and they stood in silence in front of Iwaizumi’s home.

   “That went… well, not how I expected,” Iwaizumi said.

   “That went even BETTER than I expected!” Oikawa cried. “Iwa-chan, we are LIVING the X-Files!”

   “I don’t know what that is, and something tells me I’m not looking for an explanation,” Iwaizumi said flatly. “But, fine, if that’s what really makes you happy.”

   “It does,” Oikawa said. “Anyway… I should probably get going. My parents are probably wondering what’s happened to me.”

   “Yeah, I should tell my mother I’m alright,” Iwaizumi said, scratching the back of his head. “Alright. We’ll talk about whatever the hell just happened on Monday.”

   “Monday, then,” Oikawa said. “… So, Iwa-chan, you gonna kiss me, or…?”

   “Oh,” Iwaizumi said. “Right, sorry—“

   Oikawa cut him off, gently gripping the sides of Iwaizumi’s arms, and Iwaizumi wrapped his arms around Oikawa’s waist. When they broke apart, Iwaizumi leaned in and touched their foreheads together.

   “Go to bed, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi said quietly. “We can hunt down the aliens next week.”

   Oikawa kissed him quickly, and smiled. “Promise?”

   “I swear. Right after class gets out on Monday.”

   “Alright,” Oikawa said. “Deal. Night, Iwa-chan.”

   “Good night, Shittykawa.”

   He walked off into the night, and Iwaizumi smiled. He turned back to his house, and walked up to the door and found it unlocked. As the door opened, he heard his mother’s voice call:

   “Hajime? Is that you?”

   “It’s me,” he called back. “Sorry I’m late.”

   “Is everything alright?”

   “It’s fine,” he said, hanging up his coat. “We got delayed at the train station.”

   She appeared in the hallway, wearing a bathrobe and slippers. “How was the date? Did you all have a good time?”

   “Yeah, it was nice,” Iwaizumi said. “Is everything okay here?”

   “Oh, everything’s fine,” she said. “Just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

   “I’m fine,” Iwaizumi said, smiling. “But I’m gonna go to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

   “Goodnight, Hajime.”

\--

   The following Monday, Iwaizumi lingered inconspicuously outside his locker, waiting on Oikawa. If Oikawa was still as set on the incident that had happened Saturday as he was then, he figured they would probably be out for a while.

   _To: Mom_

_I’m going to be out for a little while. I’ll be home tonight_

_  
_ [Mom] _That’s fine. Are you going out with your boyfriend again?_

   Iwaizumi groaned, and placed his face in his hands.

 

_We’re just getting coffee._

   [Mom] _Be safe Hajime! <3_

   There was no breaking her of it now, Iwaizumi thought. He slid the phone back into his pocket and sighed. Oikawa could _not_ hear of this. Lord knows he would never live it down.

   Speaking of Oikawa, the other boy appeared down the hallway, waving to him. “Iwa-chan!” he said. “Are you ready to go?”

   “Sure,” Iwaizumi said. “Just not sure where exactly we’re going.”

   “We have to go back to where we found the woman the other night,” Oikawa said. “Do you remember what station we got off of?”

   “Uh,” Iwaizumi said. “Jigenji. And then we walked a while before we found her.”

   “Let’s go then,” Oikawa said, tugging at his hand. “No time to waste!”

\--

   When they arrived at Jigenji station, Iwaizumi pulled his phone out and opened up his GPS app.

   “Alright,” he said. “Do you remember where the woman said she woke up?”

   “Hiro Street,” Oikawa said quickly. Iwaizumi stared at him. “I was _really_ paying attention to the conversation, okay?”

   Iwaizumi shook his head. “Shittykawa, if you actually redirected half the effort you put into proving the existence of extraterrestrials into something else, who knows what you’d accomplish.”

   “That’s no fun,” Oikawa said, waving him off. “Anyone can become a scholar, but only ONE person can be the one to prove that aliens exist.”

   “Well,” Iwaizumi said flatly, “I can’t say I’ve thought of it that way before. Keep hunting your little green men, then.”

   _“Grey,”_ Oikawa whispered under his breath. Iwaizumi rolled his eyes.

   Iwaizumi’s phone vibrated; _“Take a left in fifty meters to arrive at Hiro Street,”_ the automated voice said. He looked up, and in the distance, saw a road that curved off the main street.

   “We’re almost there,” he said. “… Have you been down this street before?”

   “No,” Oikawa said, shaking his head. “What about you? Didn’t you say you knew this area?”

   “Yeah, but I haven’t gone down this street before…” Iwaizumi said as they approached the street. The sign next to it said “HIRO STREET” in faded letters. Iwaizumi looked down the road; it was dark and dingy, and dead quiet.

   “Well…” Oikawa said. “Better now than later, right?”

   “Uh, sure,” he muttered. “Let’s go.”

   They began down the street, which seemed to be mostly abandoned. The houses were all boarded up, and those that weren’t didn’t exactly look lived in. Most of the yards were either overgrown or dead; there were cracks in the sidewalk so deep that Iwaizumi nearly tripped several times. No cars came down the street; it was silent.

   “This is… pretty unsettling, huh?” Oikawa said nervously.

   “Not the most pleasant place I’ve ever seen,” Iwaizumi agreed. “But, if there really _are_ aliens hiding out in Miyagi, I suppose this would definitely be the place.”

   They walked a few more yards without noticing anything particularly out of the usual, when a larger building came up on their right. Upon closer inspection, it appeared to be an abandoned grocery store. A large, faded neon sign read “MARETSU,” and the windows still had posters advertising various sales and specials. It had been abandoned for a while, Iwaizumi noted; the most recent poster advertised a sale that ended in January of a couple years ago.

   “… We should try in there,” Oikawa said.

   “This looks like some place you would go to die in a horror movie,” Iwaizumi said. “You’re probably onto something.”

   They walked up to the glass doors, which, to Iwaizumi’s surprise, opened automatically. He looked over at Oikawa who shrugged.

   Inside, the store was dark and cold. There was no food on the shelves, which made Iwaizumi feel at least marginally better. _At least this place wasn’t just abandoned as it was,_ he thought. A thick layer of dust covered the floor, and kicked up in clouds as he and Oikawa entered the front.

   “Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said, pointing at something to their left. “Look over there.”

   Next to them was the check out area; all of the cashier stations had been destroyed. Instead of looking like someone had taken a baseball bat to them, it looked as though each of had been strategically disassembled. Parts of the computers and conveyors systems were missing.

   “I wonder if the whole store is like that,” Iwaizumi said. “Come on, let’s keep going.”

   They walked deeper inside to much of the same. Anything in the store that wasn’t turned over or destroyed was covered in scratches and black marks. However, aside from the destruction, there still didn’t seem to be anything truly out of the ordinary.

   “Maybe there’s something in the back,” Oikawa suggested. “There’s a door over there.”

   He pointed to the far wall, where there was a pair of small double doors. “Sure,” Iwaizumi said. “Let’s just be careful, though.”

   They made their way slowly through the hall, creeping up on the door like E.T. himself would burst through at any moment. When they reached it, Iwaizumi placed one hand on the door, and held up a finger for Oikawa to be quiet. He nodded, and Iwaizumi slowly pushed the door open.

   Nothing happened; however, as Iwaizumi peered inside, he was hit by a very familiar smell.

   “… Fish and motor oil,” he whispered.

   Oikawa heard him, and Iwaizumi could see his jaw fall. “Are you serious?!” he whispered back, the look of shock instantly turning into one of sheer joy. “Is it really there? Let me see—“

   Oikawa stuck his head through the door, and inhaled deeply. Almost immediately, he doubled over, stifling a cough. “Y-Yeah,” he wheezed. “That’s the smell.”

   “Are you stupid?” Iwaizumi hissed. “Be quiet!”

   Oikawa didn’t answer, instead focusing on stifling his cough. Once he’d gotten it under control, they entered the back, and were faced with four doors; two on the left and two on the right. On the right, there were bathrooms, each marked with a crooked sign. Neither of the doors on the left were marked. However, in the dim room, Iwaizumi could see light streaming out from the crack of the one farthest from them.

   “… Let’s go in this one first,” he said, pointing to the one without any light.

   “Alright,” Oikawa said. He immediately went to open the door, and Iwaizumi braced himself for the worst; but, again, nothing happened.

   The room was dark; in the back, Iwaizumi could see the outline of something huge against the wall. It didn’t move. They ventured slowly into the room, and suddenly, a light came on, causing them both to jump.

   “Holy shit,” Iwaizumi said.

   A pile of junk sat in the back of the room. It went all the way up to the ceiling, and stretched to both sides of the room, which was not particularly small. Everything from parts of cars to lead pipes was stacked together, and Iwaizumi even noticed parts of cash registers from the store lying around. Closer to the door were cellphones and keys; he pointed them out to Oikawa.

   “Take a look at that,” he said. “The woman was missing her keys and phone, remember?”

   “Yeah,” Oikawa breathed. “Iwa-chan… I think I know what’s going on here.”

   Iwaizumi stared at him. “What? You do?”

   “Yeah,” he said. “Remember the other night when we went back to the woods? We overheard those government guys talking about something that had crashed in the woods. They said they found a lot of metal, remember? Iwa-chan, listen…”

   He picked up a piece of scrap metal and what looked like part of a computer monitor, and put them together. “They’re trying to rebuild their ship.”

   Iwaizumi paused. “… You’re out of your mind.”

   “No, no, look!” Oikawa said. “Their ship crashes. They have to get out before anyone finds them, they can’t recover all of their ship in time, so they have to rebuild. They take shelter in an abandoned part of town, and use the space to re-construct their ship by taking metal from their surroundings.”

   “Then what about the kidnapping? Why would they take that woman’s phone and keys?”

   “For the metal!” Oikawa said, picking up a cellphone from the floor. “There are a bunch of rare metals found in cellphones, like palladium, neodymium, and gold. They probably need that sort of stuff to get their ship off the ground, and cellphones were the fastest way to get it!”

   “… Alright,” Iwaizumi said. “I see what you’re getting at. I guess that’s not the most ridiculous idea I’ve ever heard. So why haven’t they kidnapped us?”

   “Maybe they’re not home,” Oikawa said with a shrug. “Here, watch this. I though this might be the case, so I brought them something.”

   He opened his backpack, and from inside one of the pockets, pulled three old cellphones. “I found these at an old thrift store for like 1,000 yen a piece. I bet they have SOMETHING in them that will help.”

   Oikawa set the three cellphones carefully on the ground, then backed up a few steps. “GREETINGS, EXTRATERRESTRIALS,” he yelled. Iwaizumi nearly had a heart attack. “My name is Oikawa Tooru, and I’m here to help! These are for you, so that you can fix your ship and go home—“

   _“You are out of your god damn mind,”_ Iwaizumi hissed, clamping a hand over Oikawa’s mouth. “You don’t know if these things are friendly! You’re gonna get us killed!”

   “’M jus’ trying to be fri’enly, Iwa-chan,” he protested through Iwaizumi’s hand.

   “You’re being TOO friendly,” Iwaizumi snapped. “You’ve brought your gift, now let’s get out of here.”

   Oikawa surrendered, and straightened up a little. As they turned to leave, Iwaizumi felt something vibrate inside of his bookbag.

   “Hold on,” he said. “I think my mom must be calling me or something…”

   “Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said, frowning. “You put your phone inside your jacket pocket.”

   Iwaizumi stopped. He placed one hand on his pocket; indeed, there was a square lump where his phone was. It took him a moment to process what was going on, then Iwaizumi dropped to his knees, and threw open the top of his bag.

   “Holy SHIT,” he said. “It’s the cube!”

   The tarnished-silver cube was vibrating violently in his palm. “What’s it doing?” Oikawa asked.

   “I don’t know, it’s just shaking,” he said. “Let me see if I can open it…”

   He started twisting the dials; fortunately, they must have all remained fairly close to their correct places, because the cube opened easily, and projected its blue holograms into the room. Suddenly, it began to zoom in, soaring past planets and stars, until it settled on something that looked suspiciously like earth.

   “Is that--?” Iwaizumi began. Oikawa just nodded.

   It began to zoom in again, to a small island in the middle of the ocean. Then, it got closer. And closer. When the hologram finally stopped, it was showing the image of a street lined with buildings; over the largest one was a blinking blue dot.

   “That’s us,” Iwaizumi said weakly. “Holy shit, that’s us. You were right. It’s some sort of GPS.”

   “This is INCREDIBLE,” Oikawa whispered. “Look, that’s the street! There’s the store! And these are all the houses… Iwa-chan, this is AMAZING!”

   “It really is,” Iwaizumi said. At this point, there was nothing to do but accept it. “It’s amazing.”

   For a moment, they sat in the room and stared in awe at the projection. Finally, Iwaizumi forced himself to tear his eyes away, and grabbed the cube off the floor where they had set it. Oikawa seemed to snap out of a trance, and looked at him.

   “I—I was distracted by it,” he said. “Let’s go.”

   Iwaizumi placed the cube back in his bag, and zipped it up. They left the room, and for the first time, Oikawa noticed the room with light coming from under the door.

   “In there,” he said. “That’s where we need to go next.”

   “Are you sure?” Iwaizumi said hesitantly. “I mean, it kind of looks like… y’know, there’s something IN there.”

   “Which is EXACTLY why we need to go in!” Oikawa said. “Come on, this could be it, like REALLY it! Actual, real-life aliens!”

   “I’m not sure we’re all as excited as you,” Iwaizumi said, but he knew there was no sense in trying to stop Oikawa now. He stood back a few paces, and watched in apprehension as Oikawa’s fingers wrapped around the handle of the door. Blinding light burst forth from inside the room as he opened the door, and through it, Iwaizumi could just barely see something inside; it was huge, the size of a bus, at least, and everything smelled like motor oil and fish. He heard Oikawa cry out in surprise, and tried to run towards him, but something stopped him. It felt like his brain was melting right out of his skull; Iwaizumi could feel himself losing consciousness with every second. Finally, his legs collapsed under him, and a few yards in front of him, Oikawa did the same. A noise—no, _the_ noise, the screaming returned, and Iwaizumi felt himself slip into darkness.

\--

   The first thing Iwaizumi became aware of was the feeling of cold pavement. There were soft sounds around him; crickets, leaves rustling in the wind. In the distance, a car honked. He wasn’t in any pain, but lying on the road didn’t exactly feel comfortable.

   Suddenly, he remembered what had happened in the grocery store, and sat bolt upright. “Oikawa!” he cried. There was no answer. “Oikawa?!”

   As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Iwaizumi realized he was lying near the entrance to Hiro Street. It was very dark at this point; at least past eight. In the dim light emanating from the street lamps, Iwaizumi could distantly see another figure lying on the ground.

   “Oikawa!” he said, scrambling over to him. Oikawa was lying on his back, sleeping peacefully. “Hey,” he said, shaking his shoulders. “Oikawa, wake UP.”

   Oikawa’s eyelids fluttered open, and he looked up sleepily at Iwaizumi. “Hey, Iwa-chan,” he said. “What’re you doing here?”

   “Oh my god,” Iwaizumi said. “Dumbass, THE ALIENS!”

   For a moment, Oikawa didn’t respond; then, all the sleep cleared from his face, and he sat up so fast that he nearly butted heads with Iwaizumi. “WHAT?!” he cried. “Where are we?! What happened to the supermarket?”

   “I don’t know,” Iwaizumi said. “I just woke up here!”

   Oikawa patted the sides of his pants. “… My cellphone!” he said, taking it out of his pocket. “Look, it’s still here!”

   Iwaizumi checked his pockets as well; his was also still there. “That’s weird,” he said. “Why didn’t they take our phones?”

   “Maybe it’s because I left them a gift,” Oikawa said rather matter-of-factly. “Did they take the cube?”

   Iwaizumi had forgotten about that. He checked inside of his bag, and found the cube still present. “Weird,” he said. “That’s DEFINITELY what I expected them to take.”

   “I guess they didn’t know it was there,” Oikawa said.

   “I guess not,” Iwaizumi agreed. “Do you… do you remember what happened? Anything? How did we get here?”

   “No idea,” Oikawa said, shaking his head. “The last things I remember are that really bright light… and I saw _something,_ something big, but I couldn’t see any details.”

   He groaned, and lay back down on the sidewalk. “I was right there!” he moaned. “There was an alien spaceship ten meters in front of me, and I MISSED it!”

   “To be fair, I don’t think you were given a whole lot of choice,” Iwaizumi said, bemused. “Whatever was in there, we weren’t supposed to see it.”

   Oikawa sighed and sat back up. “Fine,” he said. “At least they didn’t take our phones, I guess.”

   “I have no idea how I would have explained that,” Iwaizumi said begrudgingly. “Let’s just count our blessings for right now, huh?”

   Oikawa reluctantly agreed, and Iwaizumi helped him stand. “Alright, Shittykawa,” he said. “We need to get home before we get in trouble.”

   “What time is it?” Oikawa asked, surprised.

   “Uh,” Iwaizumi said, pulling out his phone. “8:34.”

   “Shit,” he muttered. “My mom’s gonna KILL me.”

   “Me too,” Iwaizumi said. “I told her I was out getting coffee with YOU.”

   “It’s a good thing your mom likes me, then,” Oikawa said offhandedly. “Otherwise, she might think I talked you into doing something _dirty.”_

He made a face at Iwaizumi and nudged him in the side. Iwaizumi swatted at him. “At least that’d be easier to explain than _hunting for aliens.”_

Oikawa shrugged. “Pretty sure that’s just you, Iwa-chan.”

   “What? Your parents actually KNOW you’re out hunting for aliens?”

   He shrugged again. “They’re just glad it gets me out of the house.”

   “Unbelievable.”

\--

   As they walked down the street towards Iwaizumi’s house, Oikawa was going on about some new movie that was coming out;

   “… I just think that it’s a really cool concept, you know?” he was saying. “Communicating with an alien race, but like, from a super-scientific point of view? TRANSLATING an alien language? That’s the DREAM, Iwa-chan.”

   “Mmm-hmm,” Iwaizumi agreed. He wasn’t really listening. His stomach had begun to hurt several minutes ago, and it didn’t appear to be getting better.

   “I don’t really know a lot about American movies outside of the popular science fiction movies, but this one sounds really good,” he continued. “If it comes to theaters in Japan, we should go see it…”

   A sudden unpleasant lurch from his stomach caused Iwaizumi to stumble. “O-Oikawa,” he said.

   “I hope they don’t dub it,” Oikawa said, oblivious to Iwaizumi’s sickness. “It never sounds right, I’m fine with just watching subtitles—“

   “OIKAWA,” Iwaizumi gasped, seizing a handful of his jacket.

   “Iwa-chan?!” Oikawa cried, turning around. Iwaizumi was doubled over, clutching his stomach. “What happened?! Are you okay?”

   Iwaizumi held up a finger, staggered to a nearby bush, and proceeded to throw up. Oikawa rushed to his side, and set a hand on his back.

   “What’s wrong?!” he demanded. “Did you eat something bad?”

   “I don’t know,” Iwaizumi panted. “It just sort of—happened…”

   “Maybe it’s some kind of side effect from what happened in the grocery store,” Oikawa said. “You must have been exposed to something abnormal.”

   “Why am I affected and not you, then?” he said weakly. “Shouldn’t we both be sick?”

   “I don’t know,” he said. “I guess you were more vulnerable to something than me. Or maybe you touched something that I didn’t. It could be anything.”

   “Great,” Iwaizumi grumbled. “Just what I needed.”

   He tried to straighten up, but leaned over again almost immediately, violently nauseous. “Are you going to be okay?” Oikawa asked. “Should I call someone?”

   “I’ll be fine,” he said. “Just… give me a moment…”

   Iwaizumi braced himself against a sign post and took a couple of deep breaths. Once his stomach no longer felt like it was staging a civil war against the rest of his body, he was able to stand up and turned back to Oikawa.

   “Okay,” he said. “I’ll be alright. Let’s get going.”

   They finished the walk back to Iwaizumi’s house slowly, with Iwaizumi taking breaks along the way to catch his breath. As they reached the front door, Oikawa said:

   “Do you want me to help you inside?”

   “I’ll be fine,” Iwaizumi said. “But thanks. I’ll text you, okay?”

   Oikawa nodded, but still looked worried. Meanwhile, Iwaizumi began to hobble towards his front door. He opened it, and not a second later, heard his mother’s voice:  
   “Hajime?! Where have you been?!”

   She came rushing out of the kitchen, clutching a half-empty mug of tea. “Good lord, it’s nearly nine o’clock at night, I thought you had _died,_ I tried to text you, but you weren’t answering—“

   Iwaizumi opened his mouth to answer, but immediately felt sick again, and ran past his mother, into the kitchen.

   “Hajime?! Where are you going--?”

   He threw up again in the sink, and heard his mother shriek from the hallway. She rushed into the kitchen and grabbed his shoulders, hysterical.

   “What happened?!” she cried. “Are you alright? Did someone hurt you? Are you DRUNK?!”

   “I’m not drunk, mom,” he said weakly. “Listen, I…” His mind raced as he tried to think of an excuse that _didn’t_ include aliens. “After we got coffee, we… we met up with some of the guys from the volleyball team and went out to dinner. I meant to text you, but…”

   “How did you get this sick?!”

   “It was kind of a sketchy restaurant,” he said. “I thought the food tasted funny, but I thought that maybe I was imagining it…”

   His mother let out a sigh, and leaned against the counter. “Thank god it’s just food poisoning, then,” she said. “I thought you had alcohol poisoning. But really, Hajime, what got into you? Do you have any idea how worried I was about you?”

   Iwaizumi wasn’t sure if he should brace himself to throw up again, or for whatever lecture he was about to hear. “Next time, TEXT me if you plan on being home later than seven,” she continued. “My god, you could have been DEAD for all I knew.”

   “Mom, I was with Oikawa and the guys,” he assured her. “I was fine.”

   “It doesn’t hurt to text your mother, anyway,” she said firmly. “Here, go upstairs and lay down. I’ll bring you up a pot and some tea.”

   He nodded gratefully, and trudged up to his room. When he opened his phone, there was a text from Oikawa:

 

   [Shittykawa] _Are u okay????? How do u feel?_

_  
I’m fine, just nauseous. It’s fair to assume I won’t be in school tomorrow._

_  
_ [Shittykawa] _What time does your mom normally get home from work? I’ll bring you some soup_ _ヾ_ _(´ε_ _｀_ _*)_ _ゝ_

 

   For a moment, Iwaizumi briefly considered arguing with him, but decided that it was probably a losing battle.

   _Six. Don’t go to too much trouble._

 _  
_ [Shittykawa] _It’s not! Besides, I know you’d probably die without me (_ _＾_ _∀_ _ﾟ_ _)ъ_

Suddenly, he felt sick again.

   Iwaizumi set his phone down on his bedside table, just as his mother appeared in the doorway with a large stainless-steel pot and a mug.

   “Here,” she said, placing the mug on his table. “This is peppermint tea, it’s good for your stomach. If you throw up again, try and get it in the pot, okay?”

   He nodded weakly. “Thanks,” he said.

   “I assume you’re not going to school tomorrow?” she asked.

   Iwaizumi shook his head. “Alright,” she said. “I’ll be out tomorrow, but I trust you can take care of yourself.”

   “Yeah.”

   “In that case, I’ll let you get some rest,” she said, stroking his hair. “I’ll lecture you some more on calling me when you feel better, okay?”

   “Okay,” he said, with a slight smile. She smiled back at him.

   “Good night, Hajime.”

   “Night, mom.”

\--

   Iwaizumi slept through most of the next day; although the nausea wasn’t as bad, his head was fuzzy and his legs were weak, which didn’t provide much incentive for getting out of bed. However, just as he had expected, around four, he heard the front door open, and a voice called out:

   “Iwa-chan! It’s me!”

   “Upstairs,” he yelled weakly. Footsteps ran up the stairs, and Oikawa appeared in his door frame, holding a white box in his hand.

   “How do you feel?” he asked, walking over to Iwaizumi.

   “I’ve seen better days,” Iwaizumi admitted.

   “Well, this should help,” Oikawa said, setting down the white box. “It’s Hoto. The miso is good for you, you know.”

   “Excellent,” Iwaizumi croaked, sitting up. “You don’t happen to have a spoon, do you?”

   Oikawa produced one from his bag, and handed it to Iwaizumi. “Thanks,” he said gratefully. “I haven’t really eaten all day.”

   “What’d I tell you?” Oikawa said. “You’d die without me.”

   Iwaizumi gave him a very distinctive look, but was too tired to really argue with him. He took a few sips of the soup, and Oikawa produced a notebook and pen out of his bag.

   “So, Iwa-chan,” he said. “I need you to answer a few questions for me.”

   Iwaizumi stared at him over a spoonful of soup. “… Questions?”

   “Just about how you’re feeling,” Oikawa said, writing something down on the top of the paper. “It’s not every day that I meet someone who may have a sickness with extraterrestrial origins.”

   He groaned. “Shittykawa, I’m _sick,_ can you give it a rest?”

   Oikawa paused. “… Noticeably more grumpy than usual,” he muttered, writing it down in his notebook.

   “You’re lucky I’m too sick to get up.”

   “Come on, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whined. “This could be important!”

   “Fine, fine,” Iwaizumi said, leaning back against his pillows. “What do you want to do know?”

   Oikawa looked delighted. “First of all, what are your symptoms?”

   “Well,” Iwaizumi said flatly. “I’ve been throwing up.”

   “Right…” Oikawa said, writing that down. “What else?”

   “Just headaches and weakness,” he said. “I’m not exactly sure what you’re looking for.”

   “Any sharp pains? Coughing fits? Blurry vision?”

   “No, none of those,” Iwaizumi said. “Oikawa, what do you think I _have?”_

“I don’t know, it could be a cold, or it could be the space flu,” he said, scribbling on the notebook.

   “The space flu?”

   Oikawa shrugged. “Would you prefer the common space cold?”

   “I hope to god you never plan on becoming a doctor.”

   “I think I would make an EXCELLENT doctor,” Oikawa said, offended. “I’d be the only one who would consider ALL the possibilities.”

   _He’s not wrong about that,_ Iwaizumi thought. “So, for the sake of argument, suppose I do have some sort of alien disease or something. What do we do then?”

   “I have no idea,” Oikawa said offhandedly. “I’m not a _doctor,_ Iwa-chan.”

   Iwaizumi could’ve killed him.

   “Anyway, let’s watch a movie or something,” Oikawa said, blatantly ignoring the dirty look that Iwaizumi was shooting him. “We’ve still got plenty of time before your mom gets back.”

   “What do you want to watch?”

   “You’re the sick one,” he said. “What do you want?”

   “I don’t know,” Iwaizumi groaned, leaning his head back. “I’m too tired to think. You pick something.”

   “Alright then,” Oikawa said happily. He picked his bag up off of the floor, and pulled out a stack of DVDs from the front pocket. _Of course he brought DVDs anyway,_ Iwaizumi thought. _… Then again, I suppose it’s possible he just carries those around for fun._

“Let’s see…” he said. “Little Shop of Horrors, E.T., Night of the Living Dead, the first season of Twin Peaks, and Men in Black.”

   Iwaizumi paused. “… Didn’t you say you used to watch Men in Black a lot as a kid?”

   “It was one of my favorites,” Oikawa said, apparently delighted that Iwaizumi had remembered.

   “I’ve never seen it,” he said. “Let’s watch that one.”

   Oikawa grinned, and pulled out his laptop. “You won’t regret it,” he said as he opened the top. “Will Smith is AMAZING.”

   “I don’t know who that is.”

   “You will,” Oikawa assured him. He set the computer in his lap, and leaned back against the pillows next to Iwaizumi, resting his head on the older boy’s shoulder.

   “… I’m sick, you know.” Iwaizumi said.

   “You probably have some sort of weird alien disease,” he said, waving his hand. “I’ll be fine. I’m immune, or something.”

   “Maybe it’s because YOU’RE the alien…” Iwaizumi said.

   “What?!” Oikawa demanded. “How can you say that?”

   “Well, you do seem to know a lot about aliens and stuff…” he said. “A little too much.”

   Oikawa frowned. “Are you… teasing me, Iwa-chan?”

   Iwaizumi looked up at him. “Yeah, dumbass. How’d you guess?”

   Oikawa was silent for a moment. “… You don’t do that often.”

   “Is it bad?”

   “No,” Oikawa said. He folded his legs up to his chest; “I kind of like it.”

   The movie began to play, and an image of a starry sky faded onto the screen. Iwaizumi felt Oikawa grin against his shoulder, and begin to give him a full lecture on the backstory of the movie, but he wasn’t listening. His mind was too focused on Oikawa’s pressure on his shoulder, the sound of the movie, and the feeling that, at least, at that moment, nothing else mattered but he and Oikawa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I have never done MDMA
> 
> Welcome back guys! So glad you're sticking around for another chapter. I don't have a whole lot to say right now, other than Placebo will be updating soon (no--really) and that it snowed again today, and I'm really bummed. Message me on my tumblr @sailor-rinn, it gets lonely up here.   
> See you soon!


	10. Ground Control to Major Iwa-chan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Return to earth, captain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope at least one person got that reference or I'm just going to look foolish.

   By Wednesday, Iwaizumi had fully recovered, and it was a good thing, too. The tournament was continuing, which meant that their next match was just around the corner. It wasn’t any surprise that the team was particularly nervous during practice that day. Everyone seemed to be focused particularly hard; even Hanamakki and Matsukawa seemed to be more serious than usual.

   Once practice ended, Iwaizumi began cleaning up his things, when he saw the aforementioned Hanamakki approaching him.

   “Nervous, captain?” he asked. For once, there wasn’t sarcasm in his voice.

   “… About what?” Iwaizumi said, trying to sound casual.

   “About playing Shiratorizawa on Friday,” he said. “I know you used to be rivals with one of their players.”

   “It’s not that serious,” Iwaizumi said. _Wakatoshi Ushijima,_ he thought. Ushijima was one of the country’s top three aces; Shiratorizawa was going to be a challenge. “But they’re undefeated. No matter what, it’s not going to be easy.”

   “Never said it was,” Hanamakki said. “Take it easy a little bit before Friday, huh? If you stress out before a match, you’re just going to make it harder on yourself.”

   “I know, I know,” Iwaizumi assured him. “Thanks, Hanamakki. You and Matsukawa get some stress out, too.”

   “Oh don’t worry, we’ve been working on stress relief _all week.”_

“I take it back, fuck you.”

   “Got it covered.”

   Iwaizumi groaned and lowered his face into his hands. “I _knew_ you couldn’t possibly be serious for an entire practice.”

   “Thirty seconds is my limit,” Hanamakki said matter-of-factly.

   “Go take a shower,” Iwaizumi snapped at him. “Both of you, in fact.”

   “Sure thing, captain.”

   He walked off towards the locker room, and just to be safe Iwaizumi called out after him:

   “In SEPARATE stalls!”

   Hanamakki just laughed.

   Iwaizumi shook his head, and finished putting his things away. He swung the bag over his shoulder, and after a quick word with Mizoguchi about the following day’s practice, left the gym. Outside, Oikawa was sitting on the railing, waiting for him.

   “There you are,” he said, sliding off. “Jeez, Iwa-chan, you look like shit.”

   “Thanks,” Iwaizumi said flatly.

   “I’m just being honest,” Oikawa said. “Are you alright?”

   “I’m fine,” he said. “There’s a big match on Friday, and everyone on the team is under a lot of pressure, which in turn means that I’M under a lot of pressure.”

   “Who’s it against?”

   “Shiratorizawa Academy,” he said. “They’re undefeated; their players are among the best in the country.”

   “Sounds scary,” Oikawa said. “When is it?”

   “Friday at 4:30.”

   “Okay,” Oikawa said. “I’ll be there.”

   “… You realize this might end with me getting my ass handed to me, right?”

   Oikawa rolled his eyes. “Iwa-chan, I don’t care whether or not you win. I mean, obviously I want you to, but I’m there for YOU, stupid-face.”

   Iwaizumi stared at him. “… Did you just call me a stupid-face?”

   “THAT’S what you got out of that?!”

   “You… called me a stupid-face,” Iwaizumi said, still in awe. “You’re literally twelve years old.”

   “Well, you are!”

   “I can’t even argue with this,” Iwaizumi said. “Shittykawa, do you do this to everyone, or is it just me?”

   “Both.”

   Iwaizumi sighed and involuntarily felt himself begin to laugh. “I can’t believe you actually called me a stupid-face,” he said. “That’s the worst insult I’ve ever heard.”

   “I’d like to see you do better!” Oikawa said defensively.

   “Like I do every single day?” Iwaizumi said. Oikawa pouted at him. “Oh, come on. Look, I’m glad you’re coming to the game, okay? I need the extra support.”

   Finally, Oikawa caved, and smiled at him. “Fine. You’re still a stupid-face, though.”

   Iwaizumi leaned down and kissed him gently. “I guess I can live with that.”

\--

   The days leading up to Friday’s match seemed to crawl by, like a dying man clawing his way through the desert. Iwaizumi could feel himself growing more and more tense, and he noticed Hanamakki and Matsukawa doing the same. Neither of them joked around as much as they normally did, and for a moment, he could _swear_ he saw Matsukawa actually paying attention in one of their classes. Truly, Iwaizumi thought, this was getting serious.

   When classes on that fated afternoon finally let out, Iwaizumi slowly walked to the buses, where the rest of the team was waiting for him.

   “Doing alright?” Hanamakki asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

   “Yeah,” Iwaizumi said. “Yeah, I’m fine, Takahiro.”

   Hanamakki looked taken aback at the use of his first name, but didn’t say anything. “Get some water, okay?” he said. “We’re gonna kick their ass.”

   He clapped Iwaizumi on the back, and walked over to Matsukawa, who was tapping his foot nervously. Everyone looked at their wit’s end; Iwaizumi decided he was going to have to use the bus ride to think up one hell of a speech.

\--

   When they all had settled into the locker room at the tournament facility, Iwaizumi waited until the team had gathered into one room, and clapped his hands for attention.

   “Okay,” he said. The players looked up at him, eager for words of reassurance from their captain. “I’m not here to lie to you: Shiratorizawa is tough. Among the toughest there is. They’re not going to be pushovers like some of the other teams we’ve played. Their team has some of the best players in Japan.” He paused, looking over the players, who were all beginning to look more nervous than they had when he started. “But so do we.”

   The tension in the room lightened considerably, and from the opposite corner, he saw Hanamakki wink at him. “I’ve been on this team for three years,” he continued, more confidently now. “And I’ve seen a lot of you grow up, become stronger. I’ve seen this team grow stronger. And I don’t see any reason why we can’t win this match. Shiratorizawa is strong, but we’re strong, too. Put everything you have into your plays today. Leave this building exhausted and knowing that you really gave it your all. Now, Aoba Johsai…” he put out his hand, and the rest of the players followed suit.

   “FIGHT!”

   The cheer echoed around the room like a war cry, and the players slowly regained their normal upbeat attitudes. Hanamakki came up to him, smiling.

   “Nice speech, captain handsome,” he said. Iwaizumi was going to scold him, but Hanamakki cut him off. “By the way, you might want to check outside. Someone’s waiting for you.”

   He winked, and disappeared back into the changing rooms. Iwaizumi, meanwhile, excused himself and slipped out of the lockers. Tucked in the corner was Oikawa, looking at his phone. When he saw Iwaizumi come out, his face lit up.

   “Iwa-chan!” he said, running up to his boyfriend. “You came!”

   “I—I had a few minutes,” Iwaizumi said, slightly embarrassed at Oikawa’s ebullience. “What is it?”

   “I just came to tell you good luck,” Oikawa said. “And here, I have something for you.”

   He dug into his pocket, and Iwaizumi frowned. “You didn’t have to get me anything, you know.”

   “Yeah, yeah,” Oikawa said, pulling out a small box from his pocket. “But it’s a good luck charm, okay?”

   Iwaizumi took the box from him, and opened the lid. Inside was a small silver ball chain; there was a charm on it in the shape of a UFO, with the words “I want to believe” written across the bottom.

   He couldn’t help but laugh a little. “How did I not know it was going to be aliens.”

   “Beyond me, really,” Oikawa said. “I mean, shouldn’t you know me better by now?”

   “Thanks, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi said, placing the silver chain around his neck, and tucking the charm into the front of his jersey. “I need the luck.”

   Oikawa shook his head. “Nah. It’s just for back up. I think you do a pretty okay job all on your own.”

   They smiled at each other, and Iwaizumi wrapped his arms around Oikawa’s waist. Oikawa’s crept around Iwaizumi’s shoulders, and just like that, the noise from the gymnasium was drowned out. It was all Oikawa; his smell, the feel of his shirt, the annoying extra centimeter that made Iwaizumi have to lean up a little to kiss him—

  The slam of the locker room door as they were interrupted.

   Both of them looked up in shock, and as Iwaizumi expected, it was Hanamakki watching them. “Hey, Gay Team,” he said. “I hate to break up your PDA, but we gotta go.”

   “God DAMMIT, Hanamakki,” Iwaizumi snapped. “And don’t you dare try to scold me about PDAs, not when you and Matsukawa are competing for grossest couple at Aoba Johsai.”

   “I’m just here to tell you the game’s starting,” he said with a shrug. He looked quickly at Oikawa. “But by all means—totally get some.”

   “HANAMAKKI,” Iwaizumi said, but he was already safely inside the locker room. “He’s such a handful,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ll see you after the game, okay?”

   “Sure,” Oikawa said. “Do your best, Iwa-chan!”

­   He half-smiled. “I always will.”

\--

   Nightmares Iwaizumi had dreamed about as a child didn’t even seem to compare to this. Shiratorizawa was more than tough; they were virtually unstoppable. Ujishima Wakatoshi, all 190 centimeters of him, seemed to tower over the Aoba Johsai team like a tidal wave. Iwaizumi was doomed to watch helplessly as his players performed their best, some of them, better than he’d ever seen, only to be shot down by impenetrable defense of the other side. As hard as they fought, as badly as they wanted it, fate was inevitable. The sound of the final point hitting the court sounded like a gavel pounding on Iwaizumi’s death sentence.

   The whistle rang empty in his ears. A hollow feeling was spreading through his body; he looked over at Hanamakki, who appeared to be biting back tears. Next to him, Matsukawa put an arm around his shoulder. Iwaizumi looked up in the stands and saw Oikawa watching him. He looked heartbroken.

   “… Hajime,” a voice said. Matsukawa was standing next to him. “Let’s go.”

   Iwaizumi nodded hollowly. “It’s alright,” Matsukawa said. It sounded more like he was trying to reassure himself than Iwaizumi. “It’s alright.”

   Hanamakki appeared as well, and tugged gently at the side of Mastukawa’s jersey, signaling him in some sort of strange language that only they knew. Together with Iwaizumi, they trudged back to the locker room in silence; Iwaizumi hovered in front of the door, reluctant to open it. He looked at Hanamakki for reassurance, and he nodded. Iwaizumi pushed the door open.

   An explosion of noise came from inside the locker room. Iwaizumi stood in the doorway, stunned. Apparently, this came as a surprise to Hanamakki and Matsukawa as well, because they both seemed to be as shocked as he was.

   “CAPTAIN!” someone said. Yahaba appeared out of the crowd, sobbing, and practically tackled Iwaizumi. “Thank you!”

   “W-What?” Iwaizumi stammered. “What are you all doing?!”

   “We’re trying to thank you, stupid!” Watari called out.

   Iwaizumi still didn’t comprehend what was going on. “What the hell? You all know we lost, right?”

   “Yeah, but it was a hell of a loss!” Yahaba said, wiping tears off his face. “We held them off—one of the top eight! And YOU’RE our captain! It’s not a perfect victory, but you still led us there!”

   “He has a point,” Hanamakki said, placing his hand on Iwaizumi’s shoulder. “You’re our captain, Hajime. You led us this far. And I think we did a pretty bang-up job, huh?”

   Now it was Iwaizumi’s turn to bite back tears. “Everyone,” he said. The crowd fell silent, waiting in reverence for their captain to speak. “Thank you. I… I watched you all fight your hardest out there. You may not have beaten a top eight team, but you sure as hell looked like you all belonged on one.”

   There were smiles and woops from the other players, and Iwaizumi laughed a little. “You all have given me the best three years of my life. I wouldn’t change a thing. And I…” he took a deep breath, and looked out at the crowd. “I’m not leaving.”

   Everyone looked surprised, especially some of the first-years. “I understand that I have outside responsibilities coming up—college exams and the like—but I’m not going to leave this team,” he said firmly. “So, if you’ll have me—I’d like to continue on has captain of the Aoba Johsai volleyball team.”

   There was a brief bit of silence in the locker room. Then, it was as though a bomb had gone off, and the players flocked around him, yelling and cheering.

   “Of course we still want you, stupid,” Hanamakki said over the din. “We’ve still got the Spring Preliminaries, don’t we? Who else is going to get us through those?”

   “Wait—you guys—you’re staying?” Iwaizumi said.

   “What, you think you could get rid of us that easily?” Matsukawa demanded, throwing an arm around his neck. “C’mon Captain Handsome, you’re smarter than that.”

   “Quit hogging the captain, Matsukawa!” someone said.

   A dozen warm bodies piled on him, and Iwaizumi had to brace himself against the door to keep from falling over.

   “Alright, alright, get off!” Iwaizumi yelled, but he was smiling. “Go take a shower, you all smell like the bottom of Matsukawa’s gym bag.”

   Everyone laughed, and Matsukawa made a face at him. Iwaizumi smirked.

   As the crowd slowly dispersed, Iwaizumi found time to slip outside the lockers. As he’d hoped, Oikawa was waiting for him. When he saw Iwaizumi, he launched himself at him, and Iwaizumi was just barely able to catch him.

   “Don’t— _oof—_ do that, you’re heavy!” he protested.

   “Sorry,” Oikawa said, not letting go of him. “Oh, Iwa-chan, I’m so sorry.”

   “It’s okay,” Iwaizumi said. “We played our best. That’s what matters.”

   “Are you going to keep playing?”

   “I just told them that,” Iwaizumi said. “I’m going to be the captain of the team for as long as they want me.”

   “Good,” he said, leaning back a bit, but still keeping his arms locked around Iwaizumi’s neck. “You’re a good captain, Iwa-chan. And you have a good team. They deserve you.”

   “Thanks,” Iwaizumi said. He genuinely meant it. “Look, I have to get back there. Besides, I need to shower.”

   “You do,” Oikawa said, crinkling his nose. “You smell like shit.”

   Iwaizumi chose to ignore this. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

   Oikawa nodded, and pecked him quickly on the lips. “Okay.”

\--

   When he returned home later that night, his mother appeared from the living room, looking distraught.

   “I saw the results on TV,” she said. “Hajime, I’m sorry.”

   “It’s okay,” Iwaizumi said, allowing her to pull him into a hug anyway. “Everyone tried their hardest. That’s what mattered in the end. And this isn’t the end. We still have the spring tournaments.”

   His mother looked at him. “You’re going to stay on the volleyball team?”

   Iwaizumi took a deep breath; he’d been anticipating this question for months now. “Yes,” he said firmly. “I know that… I have a lot of responsibilities, but my commitment is to the team. I’ll make it work, however I can.”

   Much to his surprise, his mother smiled and ran a hand through his hair. “They showed highlights of the game on TV,” she said. “You and the other players are amazing. If this is what you want, Hajime—stick with it.”

   He broke out into a smile, relieved. “I will,” he said. “I’ll do it all. You’ll see.”

   “I know you will,” his mother said. “You always have.”

   They hugged again, and when they separated, she said:

   “But you’ve still had a good season. Victory dinner?”

   Iwaizumi paused. “Agedashi tofu?”

   “If it’s alright, I thought we could make it tomorrow night,” she said. “I figured you would be tired when you came home.”

   “Yeah, that’s great, actually,” he said gratefully. “Thanks, mom.”

   “Of course,” she said. “But there’s one condition.”

   “What?”

   She smiled knowingly at him. “You have to invite your boyfriend so we can meet properly, okay?”

   Somehow, Iwaizumi thought, he should have seen that one coming. “Alright,” he said with a sigh. “I’ll see if he’s busy.”

   “Thank you,” she said, kissing him on the cheek. “Go get some rest, Hajime.”

   She went back into the living room, and Iwaizumi retreated upstairs. He collapsed in bed, reveling in the feeling of the mattress sinking around his aching limbs. From inside of his pocket, he took out his phone and texted Oikawa:

   _What are you doing tomorrow night?_

   His body was exhausted, but Iwaizumi was mentally wide-awake. The echoes of the cheers of his team drowned out the sounds of defeat in his head. He was going to buy Hanamakki and Matsukawa a drink sometime. And maybe turn an occasional blind eye on their antics.

   A buzz from his phone indicated a reply had come in from Oikawa: _not that I can think of,_ it read. _Why?_

_My mother wants you to come have dinner with us,_ he said. _Don’t feel under any implication._

His phone buzzed again, only seconds after he sent the text:

 

   _Omg, really, your mother?!_ Oikawa said. _Of course!!! Do I bring anything? What should I wear?_

_It’s nothing fancy,_ Iwaizumi wrote. _Just be here at like 5:30, okay? Don’t worry about bringing anything._

_Alright,_ Oikawa said. Iwaizumi wondered how he was able to type that fast. _I’ll see you tomorrow then, Iwa-chan_ _ヽ_ _(´_ _∀_ _｀ヽ_ _)_

Iwaizumi set his phone back on the table, and pulled the covers up over his head. Tomorrow would be nothing if not interesting.

\--

   Whenever there were guests coming over, Iwaizumi’s mother always flew into a cleaning frenzy. It didn’t matter if it was family, or just the repair man, everything had to be _spotless._ As a result, Iwaizumi spent most of Saturday being rushed around with a rag in one hand, and a bottle of window-cleaner in the other. By the time 5:00 rolled around, the house was nothing if not immaculate.

   “I’m going to start cooking,” his mother said. “Hajime, go make yourself like nice, okay?”

   “You’re implying I don’t like nice already,” he said. His mother pointed to his shoulder, where a large smear of grease stood out against his white t-shirt. “… Okay. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

   Iwaizumi changed into a clean t-shirt, and then stood in front of the mirror, doing his best at making his hair behave. Up until recently, he hadn’t cared all that much about his appearance; personally, he thought he could clean up pretty nicely, but something about having a boyfriend made Iwaizumi want to impress him.

   Speaking of Oikawa, Iwaizumi’s phone buzzed. A text message had come in.

   _Iwa-chan,_ it read. _I’m outside your house, please let me in._

He went downstairs, calling out to his mother a warning that their guest had arrived, and opened the front door.

   “You know,” Iwaizumi said as Oikawa slipped inside. “You could just knock.”

   “I wanted you to greet me,” he said pleasantly. Iwaizumi rolled his eyes.

   His mother came into the hall, beaming. “Tooru!” she said, smiling. “Welcome back.”

   “Hi, Iwaizumi-san,” he said politely. “Thanks for dinner.”

   “Not at all,” she assured him. “I’ve been waiting for Hajime to bring you over for ages. Sit down, please be our guest.”

   “Thank you,” he said, and looked at Iwaizumi for directions. “Come on,” Iwaizumi said. “Upstairs.”

   Oikawa followed him up to his room, and sat down on his bed. “Iwa-chan, your mom is nice,” he said happily.

   “She’s pretty much the best I could ask for,” Iwaizumi said. “But she was being serious—she’s been asking about you all week.”

   “When was the last time you dated anybody?” Oikawa asked.

   He shrugged. “A while ago. I dated a girl as a first-year, but it wasn’t very serious. I don’t think she even came over. What about you?”

   “I haven’t really _dated_ anyone,” Oikawa said. “I mean, I’ve messed around with people before—a couple members of the sci-fi club. I went on a date with a girl last year. It didn’t go too well.”

   “Can I ask… how you knew?”

   Oikawa looked at him. “How I knew I was into dick?”

   Iwaizumi sighed. “I was going to say men, but go wild.”

   “I just like seeing you embarrassed, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said. Iwaizumi scowled at him. “I found out when I went over to the one of the sci-fi club members’ house. We were playing his Xbox, and things just got sort of… handsy, I guess.”

   A bitter spike of jealousy hit Iwaizumi, and he shook it off. _No, no_ , he thought. That was a long time ago. He had nothing to be jealous of.

   “… Must have been some kind of video game.”

   “I don’t even remember what it was anymore,” Oikawa said, laughing. “It’s weird how the little details of things get lost. What about you? When did you figure it out?”

   _When did he figure it out?_ Iwaizumi suddenly felt himself very grow very red and stared at the wall. “Uh,” he said nervously. Oikawa leaned in, anticipating a good answer. “I guess it was uh, when I thought I was gonna get mugged on the side of the road on my way home from volleyball practice…”

   Just as he had expected, Oikawa let out a dramatic gasp, and leaped over to where Iwaizumi was sitting on the bed. “It was ME?!” he demanded, his smirk growing wider with every moment. _“I_ turned you gay?! Like, at that exact moment?! You looked into my eyes and fell in love with me?”

   “No, not at that exact moment, stupid!” he snapped, shoving him away. “I was trying to be poetic!”

   “Then WHEN?” Oikawa said. “If it wasn’t the moment you met me, then when did you realize that you were a flagrant homosexual? Because, I would have been enough for me.”

   Iwaizumi was slowly becoming an expert at pretending he didn’t hear things. “I guess it was that night we were walking home together,” he grumbled. “The night you asked me, you know, if I was ashamed of you? I don’t know why, there was just something about that moment where I… I don’t know, you just looked _different,_ I guess? Like I was… seeing you again, for the first time.”

   “Iwa-CHAN!” Oikawa cried, throwing himself around Iwaizumi. “That’s so SAPPY! Who knew you were such a romantic!”

   “Okay, get OFF,” Iwaizumi snapped, attempting to separate them. “I can’t tell you ANYTHING.”

   “It was _cute,”_ Oikawa said. “Sappy, but cute. I know you meant well.”

   “Fine,” he said. “Well, there it is. There’s your answer. Happy?”

   “Yep,” Oikawa said, clearly pleased with himself.

   Just then, Iwaizumi heard his mother’s voice call from downstairs:

   “Hajime! Tooru! Dinner is ready!”

   “Coming!” Iwaizumi said. He looked at Oikawa, who was still smirking at him. “Not a word of this.”

   “My lips are sealed, Iwa-chan.”

   Somehow, Iwaizumi didn’t believe that. But there was no use in arguing with Oikawa, so he didn’t pursue the subject. They went downstairs to the kitchen, where Iwaizumi’s mother was standing over a pot of tofu.

   “Hungry?” she asked.

   “Starving,” Iwaizumi said.

   Oikawa leaned over the stove, and looked into the pot. “Agedashi tofu?” he said. “It smells really good, Iwaizumi-san.”

   “Thank you,” his mother said brightly, obviously pleased. Iwaizumi gave Oikawa a funny look; _since when is he such a charmer?_

“Here, Iwaizumi,” his mother said, handing him a bowl. “Go sit down.

   “Thanks,” he said, waiting until Oikawa got his. They wandered over to the table, and waited on his mother, who appeared a couple of seconds later.

   “Let’s eat!” she said happily. They started on the tofu, and she turned to Oikawa; “Tooru,” she said. “Tell me about how you and Hajime met.”

   He and Oikawa made eye contact from across the table. Iwaizumi raised his eyebrows. “Uh…” Oikawa said. “I… got lost on my way home one night. Iwa-chan was walking home from volleyball, and since I live in the same neighborhood, he helped me get back.”

   “Oh, you live around here?” his mother said.

   “Yeah, about a ten minute walk,” he said, gesturing to the left. “So I could get back okay.”

   “Alright, that’s good to know,” she said. “I’m glad it wasn’t a hassle to get here.” She paused for a minute. “So… where did ‘Iwa-chan’ come from?”

   Iwaizumi choked on his tofu. “I just thought it was easy to say,” Oikawa said, seemingly unfazed. “Plus, it makes him flustered, which I think is funny.” Suddenly, he looked at Iwaizumi, and smiled mischievously. “Actually, Iwa-chan has a nickname for me, too.”

   “No I don’t,” Iwaizumi said quickly. _Shut up, Shittykawa,_ he mouthed across the table. Oikawa grinned.

   “He’s just embarrassed about it,” Oikawa said. His tone of voice made it clear that he was reveling in every moment of this. “I think it’s _really_ cute, though.”

   For a split-second, Iwaizumi considered creating a distraction by dunking his head into the boiling pot of tofu in the middle of table; however, Oikawa beat him to the punch. _“Oiks,”_ he said, annunciating every syllable like it was a foreign language. “It’s sweet, isn’t it?”

   On the other hand, maybe he’d just drown himself instead. “That is!” his mother agreed, ecstatic. “Hajime, why don’t you ever tell me things?”

   “It… never came up in conversation…” he said through clenched teeth. He looked at Oikawa, who was beaming. _I,_ he mouthed, _am going to kick your ass._

Oikawa blew him a kiss while his mother wasn’t looking, then winked at him. _I can’t wait_.

\--

   Once the nickname incident was finally over with, the rest of the night went relatively smoothly. His mother seemed to genuinely like Oikawa, which took a load off of Iwaizumi’s chest. When dinner was over, Oikawa said:

   “I’d better get going. My parents are probably wondering where I am.”

   Iwaizumi’s mother looked concerned. “… Do they not know you’re over here?”

   “Uh,” he said nervously, looking to Iwaizumi for help. “Well, they don’t really know about… this… at all.”

   Just as Iwaizumi started to saying something, his mother cut him off. “Well, that’s alright,” she said. “I won’t say anything, but if you need an excuse, you can tell them Hajime’s your friend, and you were having dinner with us. If they need to call me, I’ll tell them.”

   “Thanks, Iwaizumi-san,” Oikawa said, looking relieved. “I really appreciate it.”

   “Not a problem,” she said. She looked at Iwaizumi and smiled. “I’ll leave you two to say goodbye.”

   She went back into the dining room, and Oikawa laughed. “I was right,” he said. “Your mom really is pretty great.”

   “She is,” Iwaizumi agreed. “… But I swear to _god,_ Shittykawa, if I hear one word from her about _‘Oiks,’_ I’m going to come down there and kick you into next spring.”

   “Don’t worry, Iwa-chan, I’m sure she’ll forget about it,” Oikawa said dismissively, but he looked nervous. “You overthink things.”

   “You’d better hope I do,” he said firmly.

   “Don’t be mean, Iwa-chan” Oikawa said, resting his arms on Iwaizumi’s shoulders. “I’ll see you Monday.”

   “Monday,” Iwaizumi said, defeated. He kissed Oikawa quickly, and pulled away. “Good night, Shittykawa.”

   Oikawa stuck his tongue out at him. “Good night, stupid-face.”

\--

   As it turned out, Oikawa was better at first impressions than Iwaizumi had given him credit for. Then again, he figured, maybe their initial meeting had been an exception.

   However, his mother seemed to _adore_ Oikawa, and insisted to Iwaizumi that he come over more often, for dinner, for movies, for _whenever._ “If it’s his parents that are a problem, I’m sure we can work something out,” she said. “Tell him that I’m okay with telling him you two are just friends.”

   He promised her that he’d bring Oikawa back the next weekend if he could, and she smiled. “Are you happy, Hajime?” she asked.

   He hesitated. “Yes,” he said firmly. “I really am.”

   She hugged him. “Good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! Thank you again for reading and keeping up with me, and THANK YOU for all the comments! I read and love every single one of them, even if I don't directly respond. I wish I could find richer words to say that with, but I swear that it's true.  
> Apologies if this chapter ends rather abruptly; I originally designed it to be longer, but I chose to split in two at the last minute.  
> Anyway, this is the final "regular update," I'm sorry guys! However, this does not by ANY means that I am abandoning this! I have the rest of the story pretty much planned out, but this is the end of what I've got written. It will continue, but it will have to, at least to a point, take a backseat to Placebo, as that is my prior commitment. But this is not goodbye, readers! I will see you again!


	11. The Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is there a risk too big for the truth?

   The next afternoon, once classes had let out, Iwaizumi walked to the entrance of the school to find Oikawa waiting for him as usual.

   “Don’t you have other friends?” he asked as Oikawa bounded up to him.

   “Yes, but I can’t make out with my other friends,” he said.

   Iwaizumi decided he couldn’t really argue with that. “You’re ridiculous,” he said flatly. “What do you want?”

   Oikawa looked offended. “Iwa-chan, why do you assume I _want_ something? Have you ever considered that maybe I just _value your company?”_

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow. “… Alright, alright,” Oikawa said. “Listen, I’ve been thinking about that cube, and I think we should try taking it back to where we found it.”

   “You want to put it back?” Iwaizumi said, skeptical. “I didn’t think you’d let a piece of alien technology slip so easily through your fingers.”

   “I didn’t say anything about putting it back,” he said. “Just taking it back for a little to see if anything happens.”

   Iwaizumi frowned at him, then paused as he tapped his rail pass against the reader of the train. “… What exactly makes you think that taking it back to where we were will have any effect?”

   “I mean, it just makes sense, doesn’t it?” he said. “Like, how some technology only works in certain areas, or needs certain things to trigger it. Maybe there’s something in those woods that triggers the cube.”

   “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but alright,” he said flatly. “But I told my mom I’d pick up some groceries on the way home, so we have to do that first.”

   “Sure,” Oikawa said cheerfully. “I love your mom.”

   “She’s pretty great,” Iwaizumi agreed. “So when do I get to meet YOUR parents?”

   Oikawa suddenly looked nervous. “Um,” he said, and Iwaizumi immediately regretted asking the question. “I mean, if you really want to, I guess you can, but they don’t really… uh…”

   “… Know?”

   “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Know.”

   He looked upset, and Iwaizumi quickly dropped the subject. Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t recall any instances of Oikawa talking about his parents; Iwaizumi knew he had a sister, and a young nephew, whom he adored, but his mother and father almost appeared to be out of the picture altogether.

   “Well,” he said, “my mom thinks you’re the best thing that ever happened to me, so you’re welcome at my house whenever you want to come.”

   Oikawa’s face lit up instantaneously. “Really?” He grinned. “You’ll never get rid of me now, Iwa-chan.”

   “I never want to.”

\--

   When they arrived at Iwaizumi’s house, arms full of groceries, Iwaizumi’s mother was standing in the kitchen, making a cup of tea. She smiled when she saw her son, and when Oikawa walked in after him, her grin widened.

   “You’ve brought Tooru-chan with you!” she said, using an affectionate nicknamed she’d developed since his last visit. “How is my future son-in-law?”

   _“Mom,”_ Iwaizumi whispered, mortified. Oikawa was grinning broadly.

   “I’m good, Iwaizumi-san, thank you,” he said. “We just came to drop off some groceries.”

   “Thank you, Hajime,” she said, kissing his cheek. “Tooru-chan, do you want to stay for dinner?”

   “Actually, mom, I told Hanamakki and Matsukawa that we’d meet them at the sushi place over by the middle school,” Iwaizumi said quickly. He and Oikawa made brief eye contact, then looked back at his mom. “Sorry.”

   “It’s fine,” she said, but Iwaizumi could see that she was a little hurt. He immediately felt bad. “Be home by ten, okay? It’s a school night.”

   “I will,” he said, trying his best to sound grateful. “Thanks, mom. I’ll see you later.”

   They left the house, and Oikawa turned to Iwaizumi.

   “Not happy about you going out so much, huh?”

   “It’s not that she’s _mad,”_ he said, “but I think she’s worried, I guess. With graduation coming up. Oldest son, only child about to become an adult, you know?”

   “Graduation’s a ways away still,” Oikawa said, casually waving a hand. “Stop worrying so much. We have plenty of time for adventures until then.”

\--

   When they approached the woods, the surrounding area was dark and silent. Iwaizumi narrowed his eyes, and scanned the road and forest with the flashlight beam.

   “It’s awful quiet,” he said flatly.

   _“Too_ quiet,” Oikawa said, wiggling one eyebrow at him.

   “Yeah,” Iwaizumi said. He walked into the woods, then signaled for Oikawa to follow him.

   The trees that had been marked still stood, and they used them to make their way through the thickening forest; nothing appeared out of place. But, then again, it had been a while since their last visit, and memory did tend to fade quite fast. They advanced a few more feet, then Oikawa pointed to a spot on the ground and said:

   “This is where we first heard the noise.”

   “How do you know?” Iwaizumi asked him.

   He gestured towards a large oak slightly to the left. “I remember the possum tree.”

   Iwaizumi frowned at him. “Last week, I asked you your phone number again, and you couldn’t even remember the first three numbers, but you remember the _possum tree?”_

“One of us has to have our priorities in order Iwa-chan,” he said wisely. Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. “Anyway, if this was the possum tree, then—“

   Suddenly, Iwaizumi held up his hand, and Oikawa stopped in his tracks. “Shh,” he whispered. “Do you hear that?”

   The sound of distant voices was coming from somewhere inside the woods. They didn’t sound conversational; one was barking commands, and the others were replying with short, loud sentences.

   Oikawa met Iwaizumi’s gaze; “ _F B I,”_ he mouthed.

   Iwaizumi gestured to the possum tree, and they both took cover behind the wide trunk. Minutes of tense, dark silence passed, until finally, the voices grew louder, now accompanied by footsteps and the beams of flashlights. Two figures appeared out of the woods, marching together at a brisk pace.

   “… still no sign of where they’ve gone, Agent Tomlinson is still majorly disoriented, as were all the other victims,” one was saying; his choppy Japanese sounded familiar.

   “I have teams searching every abandoned building in twenty miles,” the other said. “If they’ve moved, we’ll find them.”

   “Agent Izumaki,” the first figure began. Iwaizumi gasped; these were the same FBI agents who had questioned him previously. “While I in no way doubt your capability, it should go without saying that we’re running out of time in this situation. Would it not be better to send out the army?”

   “Whatever landed here, I want it brought to me as intact as it can be,” Izumaki said firmly. “If alien technology is advanced enough to break lightspeed, I want Japan to be the first to have it. And I’m sure we’d be more than willing to share with our… allies.”

   _“It’s an international conspiracy!”_ Oikawa hissed.

   Iwaizumi hushed him, keeping a close eye on the two agents. Suddenly, a faint humming began to emanate from Oikawa’s bag, and they both started.

   “Seriously?” Iwaizumi whispered as Oikawa scrambled for his bag. “You didn’t put your phone on silent?”

   “I forgot, okay?!” Oikawa whispered back. “I didn’t think—“ He stopped mid-sentence, and slowly lowered his hand to his pocket. “… My cellphone is in here.”

   They both looked at each other, and Oikawa ripped open his bag as quickly as he could without making any noise; from inside, he pulled the cube, which was vibrating violently.

   “… I told you so,” he said.

   “Is now _really_ the time for that?!” Iwaizumi demanded. “Hurry up and shut it off!”

   “I’m TRYING,” Oikawa said. “It’s not as though it comes with an instruction manual…”

   He turned it over rapidly in his hands, twisting dials and pushing the knobs as fast as his fingers would allow him. For a brief moment, the vibrating stopped, then, there was a click, and the cube opened.

   _“THAT IS NOT SHUTTING IT OFF,”_ Iwaizumi hissed.

   _“I know that,”_ Oikawa said. “I don’t know how—“

   By then, it was far too late. Blue light exploded out of the cube, illuminating every nook and cranny of the pair’s hiding spot.

   “What is that?!” one of the agents’ voices shouted. “Hey!”

   “Shittykawa, RUN!” Iwaizumi said, grabbing his boyfriend’s wrist.

   They scrambled up from their hiding spot, and took off into the woods, with the two agents still in pursuit.

   “Do something!” Iwaizumi yelled, pointing at the cube, which was still illuminating their path.

   “Oh, let me just find the reboot switch!” Oikawa said. “I don’t know what to do, stupid!”

   “You two, STOP!” a third voice shouted over the din. “Stop NOW!”

   Oikawa shook his head rapidly in Iwaizumi’s direction, and they both kept running as he struggled to shut off the glowing cube. Suddenly, a bang echoed through the forest, and something whizzed by Iwaizumi’s head.

   “They’re SHOOTING AT US?!” Oikawa demanded, apparently surprised.

   “Now can I say we’re going to die?!” Iwaizumi said.

   “Okay, we MIGHT die,” Oikawa agreed. “Just—keep running!”

   Iwaizumi wasn’t sure what else he was _supposed_ to do, but kept his mouth shut. Finally, Oikawa was able to close the cube, and stuffed it into his bag, giving them back the cover of darkness. The agents were still behind them, and Iwaizumi searched the woods for any chance at an escape. Finally, he spotted a low hanging tree branch, and decided to take a risk.

   “Oikawa,” he hissed, gesturing at the branch. They ran over, and Iwaizumi climbed onto it, then helped Oikawa up. They went up another branch, until they were maybe ten feet from the ground, and waited.

   Footsteps pounded into the area. From below, Iwaizumi could see the two agents looking for them.

   “Did you see where they went?” one panted.

   “No, I think we’ve lost them,” the other, whom Iwaizumi recognized as Izumaki, said. “Did you see their faces?”

   “Not perfectly, but I could definitely pick them out of a lineup,” the agent said, and Iwaizumi’s heart skipped a beat. “What the hell were they holding?”

   “I don’t know,” Izumaki said. “That glow looked like the one from the ship piece we picked up; whatever it was, it wasn’t man-made.”

   “A couple of teenagers running around with alien technology…” the other agent groaned. “If A.D. Tanner hears about this, it’ll cost me my job.”

   “It’s both of our jobs on the line,” Izumaki spat. “Which is why he’s not going to hear about it. You said you could pick them out of a lineup? I bet they came from that high school down the road. Tomorrow, we’ll find them.”

   They disappeared into the woods, and Iwaizumi and Oikawa sat in the tree, waiting. Once silence had descended upon the forest, Oikawa turned to Iwaizumi and said:

   “Holy shit Iwa-chan, we’re in trouble.”

   “No shit,” Iwaizumi muttered, lowering himself down from the tree branch. “Do you really think they saw us?”

   “The light from that cube was pretty bright,” Oikawa said. “It’s not impossible.”

   “Shit…” Iwaizumi said. “If they find out who we are, they’ll come for us, and I don’t know about you, but I don’t really feel like explaining any of this to my mom.”

   “Definitely not,” Oikawa agreed. “God, my dad is going to flip if the entire FBI turns up at my house…”

   “We might still have some time,” Iwaizumi assured him. “I’m going to cancel practice tomorrow; you take the cube, keep it somewhere safe. We’ll figure out what’s going on after school tomorrow.”

   Oikawa nodded, putting the cube into his bag and zipping it up. “I’ll keep this with me. See you tomorrow, Iwa-chan.”

\--

   School the next day was surprisingly quiet, especially for Iwaizumi, who was on a hair trigger from the moment he returned to his house that night, into the following afternoon. His day was comprised mostly of looking obsessively over his shoulder in the hallways, accompanied by short panic attacks whenever there was a knock at the classroom door, or the PA system dinged overhead.

   Needless to say, by the time the final bell rang, Iwaizumi’s nerves were totally and utterly frayed. When he walked out of the front building of Aoba Johsai, he was relieved to see Oikawa waiting for him, looking perfectly normal.

   “You okay?” Oikawa asked as Iwaizumi approached him.

   “Fine,” Iwaizumi said. His nerves were showing. “Mizoguchi chewed me out for cancelling practice, but I had to do what I had to do. What about you? Anything happen?”

   “Not in the slightest,” Oikawa said as they began walking. “Almost suspiciously quiet.”

   “Let’s not get paranoid,” Iwaizumi said. “Maybe we should be grateful for it. Come on, let’s go back to my house.”

   “Okay,” Oikawa said pleasantly. They began walking towards the train station, when suddenly, Iwaizumi felt something slip into the palm of his hand. He looked down, and watched as Oikawa intertwined their fingers, bringing their hands together.

   “Are… you sure?” Iwaizumi asked, noting the people that surrounded them.

   “Positive,” he said.

   They walked hand-in-hand for a few more minutes, before Iwaizumi stopped very suddenly, bringing Oikawa with him.

   “Iwa-chan?” Oikawa said, concerned. “What is it? Is something wrong?”

   “No, it’s just…” he looked over at Oikawa, somewhat dumbstruck. “When all of this is over, we should go on another date. A real one.”

   Oikawa smiled, and squeezed Iwaizumi’s hand. “As many as we can.”

\--

   When they arrived home, Iwaizumi’s mother was delighted to see that he’d brought Oikawa with him.

   “I hope you two are staying for dinner this time,” she said in a mock scolding voice. “Tooru-chan, I bought some milk bread for you, too, it’s in the fridge.”

   “Thanks, Iwaizumi-san,” he said, already halfway to the fridge. Iwaizumi looked at his mother.

   “You’re spoiling him,” he said flatly.

   “Don’t be mean, Hajime,” his mother said kindly.

   “Yeah, Hajime,” Oikawa said through a mouth full of milk bread. “Don’t be mean.”

   “And don’t you start,” Iwaizumi said, pointing at him. He looked back at his mother. “We’ll be upstairs, mom.”

   “Alright,” she said pleasantly. “Don’t do anything you wouldn’t want your mother to see!”

   “We won’t!” Oikawa called.

   “She has no idea…” Iwaizumi murmured, thinking about the forest chase that had ensued the night before. Oikawa snickered.

\--

   “… All I’m saying is that Godzilla is _Godzilla,_ he doesn’t need ten thousand freaking space powers and a laser tail to be cool, he’s already cool as it is, so why change the design? Why not just let him be himself?”

“I think you’re full of shit.”

   Iwaizumi leaned against the headboard of his bed, watching Oikawa as he strode angrily around the bedroom. He wasn’t sure how Godzilla had gotten into their conversation, but Oikawa was now insisting that the recently-released American version of Godzilla was illegitimate, and Iwaizumi refused to hear any part of it.

   “Iwa-chan, you’re just stubborn,” Oikawa whined. “Listen, it’s not even made by Toho, how can it be legitimate?”  
   “You’re just looking for a reason to complain now.”

   “No I’m not!”

   “Okay, well maybe I _like_ laser Godzilla, he’s cool,” Iwaizumi said, throwing his hands up in the air. “I don’t know. Oikawa, don’t you have anything to do? Homework or something?”

   “I’m trying to WAKE YOU UP to the Godzilla conspiracy!” Oikawa said, mimicking Iwaizumi by throwing his hands in the air as well. “You need to open your EYES Iwa-chan!”

   He accentuated this by throwing up the curtains to Iwaizumi’s window, allowing evening light to flood the room.

   “There is no Godzilla conspiracy, stupid,” Iwaizumi snapped. “All Godzillas are valid. If the American Godzilla isn’t legitimate, then how do you explain—Shittykawa? Are you listening to me?”

   Oikawa was watching something out the window intently. “… Iwa-chan,” he said. “We might have a problem.”

   “What?!” Iwaizumi said, leaping out of bed and running over to the window. “What are you talking about?!”

   “Look,” Oikawa said. He pointed to a black car a few yards away from the house. Just as Iwaizumi was about to ask what was wrong, Oikawa said: “Government plates.”

   _“Shit,”_ Iwaizumi whispered. “What do we do?”

   “We gotta get out of here,” he said, standing up. “Grab your stuff.”

   “Oikawa, I can’t just _leave!”_ he said. “And neither can you, for that matter! I’ve got my mom, she doesn’t know what’s going on—“

   “Iwa-chan, we can leave, or we can stay and the government gets the cube and we get arrested for obstruction of justice and tried in two different countries, and then your mom will be _really_ angry.”

   “That’s not a bad point,” Iwaizumi grudgingly agreed. “Alright. We’ll go out the back door—meet me there.”

   “What are you going to do?”

   Iwaizumi frowned. “What I have to.”

   Oikawa nodded understandingly, grabbed his backpack, and ran out of the room. Iwaizumi threw a few essentials into his own—spare batteries, a t-shirt, some protein bars, and followed.

   He went into the kitchen, where his mother was bent over the stove, cooking something in a pot.

   “Mom,” Iwaizumi said.

   “Oh, Hajime,” she said. “Good timing it’s—is something wrong?”

   “If anyone asks,” he said firmly. “I’ve left the country.”

   “Hajime, what on earth are you—“

   He’d already rushed out of the room, into the back where Oikawa was waiting. They ran out of the back door, intending to jump the fence into the next street.

   “Did you think of something to tell your mom?” Oikawa asked him.

   “I’ve got it covered,” he said.

   They emerged onto the road behind Iwaizumi’s house. From the other side, they could hear voices and cars approaching the house; there was no going back now, Iwaizumi figured.

   “So now what’s the plan?” he asked Oikawa.

   “Head to the woods,” Oikawa said, starting in that direction. “We’ll be harder to find. Do you have your cellphone with you?”

   “Yeah?”  
   “Take the chip out,” Oikawa said, extracting his own. “They can track you that way.”

   Iwaizumi followed suit, and they continued into the woods, dodging behind buildings and into alleyways where they could, until they were safely under the cover of trees. They went another three hundred yards or so into the forest, until they felt they were deep enough inside.

   “Alright genius,” Iwaizumi said. “Now that we’re officially fugitives with a stolen piece of alien technology and no outside communication, what’s your plan?”

   “Well, first and foremost, we need to help the aliens,” Oikawa said rather matter-of-factly. “But it sounds like they’ve left the grocery store, so I don’t know where they would have gone.”

   “Do you have any way of finding out?”

   “Maybe,” Oikawa said, rummaging through his bag. He pulled out a small, black hand radio. “I can connect this to the police scanner; if anything suspicious happens, it might come through here, and we can check it out.”

   “Seems like an awful lot of ‘maybes,’” Iwaizumi said.

   “Well, let me know if you have a better idea.”

   He turned the radio and let it rest against a tree; for a while, nothing happened. There were murmurings back and forth between the channels—a suspicious person here, a domestic call there—but for twenty minutes, it was mostly quiet, until:

   “Officer Amari, we’re getting reports of strange sounds near the abandoned hotel off of Endo.”

   Iwaizumi looked up, and he and Oikawa looked up. The broadcast continued:

   “Some tourists said they heard metallic banging and smelled motor oil. Could be nothing.”

   “I think that’s us,” Oikawa said, standing up. “Abandoned hotel off of Endo… I think I know where that is. C’mon Iwa-chan, we probably don’t have much time.”

\--

   When they arrived at the hotel a few kilometers later—Iwaizumi was undoubtedly impressed by Oikawa’s navigation skills—there was already a police car parked a few yards away. No one was inside.

   “Shit,” Oikawa said. “I was really hoping they wouldn’t check it out.”

   “Looks like they didn’t have much better luck than the last couple of people,” Iwaizumi said, pointing to an object in front of the hotel. “Look.”

   “Oh, _shit,”_ Oikawa muttered. The policeman who had previously occupied the car was now lying motionless in front of the building. Oikawa bent down, and took the man’s wrist.

   “Is he alive?” Iwaizumi asked.

   “Yeah,” Oikawa said. “Grab the radio out of my bag.”

   He handed the radio to Oikawa, who turned it on, and adjusted the dial. A man’s voice came through the speaker:

   “Officer Amari?” it said. “Officer Amari, do you read me?”

   They made panicked eye contact. “What do we do?” Iwaizumi mouthed.

   “Uh…” Oikawa said. Suddenly, he cleared his throat, and pressed a button on the radio: “Yes, I read you. All clear here.”

   _“Are you out of your MIND?”_ Iwaizumi mouthed at him. Oikawa shrugged.

   “Alright,” the voice from the other end of the line said. “Hey, there are some government agents here…”

   A flicker of panic crossed Oikawa’s face. “They wanna know what’s going on down there.”

   “It’s nothing!” Oikawa said, maybe a bit too loudly. “Uh, like I said, all clear.”

   “Well, they want to come down anyway,” the voice continued. “Couple of them will be there in a few minutes.”

   “R-Roger,” Oikawa said, then slammed down the radio and turned to Iwaizumi. “SHIT!”

   “Nice going, genius,” Iwaizumi said.

   “It’s not my fault!” Oikawa protested. “To be fair, if no one had answered, they would have just come faster anyway!”

   “We don’t have time to bicker,” he said, offering Oikawa a hand up. “Come on, if you really think the aliens are in here, we should warn them.”

   They ran into the hotel lobby, which smelled of fish and motor oil. “This has got to be the place,” Oikawa said. “You smell it?”

   “Yeah,” Iwaizumi said. “But if they’re not in the lobby, where else would be big enough to hide an entire spaceship?”

   “Um…” Oikawa said. “I don’t know. We can’t check all the rooms, we don’t have time.”

   “Hold on…” Iwaizumi said, looking around. He spotted a sign above the front desk, barely readable through the grime that covered its surface. The words “POOL DECK” were visible at the top, with an arrow pointing towards the back of the building.

   “The pool,” he said, pointing to it. “I bet that’s it.”

   “Good thinking, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said, already heading down the hallway. “Let’s go.”

   As they came closer and closer to the pool, the smell of motor oil and fish became so strong, it was nearly overwhelming.

   “That’s disgusting,” Oikawa said, holding a hand in front of his nose. “I never expected the aliens to smell bad.”

   “Honestly, I’m not really sure what you expected at all,” Iwaizumi said.

   “Me either.”

   Another sign at the end of the hallway pointed to the hall to their left: “POOL.”

   “It’s right here,” Oikawa said, not even trying to hide the excitement in his voice. “We’re right here!”

   Iwaizumi didn’t say anything, just followed him as they took a sharp turn down the end of the hall. Suddenly, Oikawa stopped dead, causing Iwaizumi to nearly run into him. He was about to scold him, but then, he caught sight of what Oikawa was staring at.

   _“Woah.”_

The pool—at least, Iwaizumi assumed— was in an enclosed glass area, which was currently full of thick fog. Nothing beyond the door was visible; however, enormous dark shapes shifted in and out of the clouds, occasionally backlit by flashes of light.

   “Is that… really them?” he asked, barely able to find his voice.

   “It’s them,” Oikawa said, awestruck. “It’s really them.”

   A brief moment passed, then Oikawa took off running towards the door. “HEY!” Iwaizumi yelled, not moving from the spot. “Are you out of your mind?!”

   “I need to warn them!” he yelled. “We’re going to run out of time!”

   Oikawa got about five feet from the door before his confidence ran out, and his run slowed to a walk. Iwaizumi was silent; he wasn’t sure what else to say. Slowly, Oikawa took another step towards the door, then another, and another, until the handle was at arm’s length. He outstretched his hand, letting his fingers wrap around the handle. A thousand years seemed to pass in the second where Oikawa turned back to look at him, and Iwaizumi saw something new in his eyes: doubt.

   “I-Iwaizumi?”

   Iwaizumi stared at him, at a loss for words. Then, he nodded slowly in Oikawa’s direction, his throat suddenly dry. “Go.”

   Oikawa watched him for another second, then turned back to the door. A blinding flash of white light came from inside the foggy room, illuminating the hall so that Oikawa’s tall figure appeared black against the glass. He pulled back, and Iwaizumi felt his heart stop.

   Nothing happened.

   “It’s… locked,” Oikawa said quietly.

   “O-Oh,” Iwaizumi said, half-disappointed, half-relieved. “That figures, actually.”

   “Yeah,” Oikawa said.

   They stood in silence for a moment, before Oikawa turned back to him. “We still have to warn them!” he said, his passion slowly beginning to return. “Maybe they can still hear us!”

   He turned back to the door, and began beating on the glass. “HEY!” he cried, his voice cracking under the pressure of fear and adrenaline. “ALIENS! Listen! If you can hear me, you need to go! You have to leave, they’re coming for you!”

   “Oikawa,” Iwaizumi said; his voice was cracking as well. “Oikawa, we need to go—“

   “We can’t just LEAVE!” Oikawa yelled, banging his fists on the door. “If they don’t go, the agents will catch them! They’ll never get HOME!”

   “Oikawa, _please,”_ Iwaizumi said, coming up behind him and grabbing his shirt. “If the agents catch _us,_ we’ll never get home, either. Do you know what they’ll do to us? We’ve got to get out of here!”

   “I can’t leave,” he practically sobbed. “This is everything I ever wanted, Iwaizumi, this is glory and knowledge and _proof,_ it’s right _here—“_

“They’re COMING, Oikawa!” he shouted, physically dragging Oikawa away from the glass. “They’re coming and if they catch us, we’re going to die!”

_“But—“_

   “What about the sci-fi club?!” Iwaizumi demanded. “What about your friends? What about Hanamakki and Matsukawa, what about your family, what about me?! Why throw away everything you have for the non-existent chance that you could have it all?!”

   Oikawa stopped fighting him. “Proof found you once,” Iwaizumi said, calmer. “It’ll find you again.”

   He didn’t respond. They stood there, Oikawa’s gaze fixed on the glowing room just a few yards from him, and Iwaizumi’s own fixed on Oikawa. Finally, Iwaizumi felt his shoulders shrug, and the other boy took a deep breath.

   “Fine,” he said, and Iwaizumi could almost feel the emotion in his voice. “Let’s run, Iwa-chan.”

   Turning their backs on the pool deck, they ran down the hallway from which they had first came, only to hear voices coming from the lobby.

   _“Shit,”_ Oikawa whispered. “They’re already here!”

   “There must be a back door somewhere,” Iwaizumi said. “Come on.”

   They headed farther into the hotel, until finally, a back door appeared at the end of a hall of rooms. Iwaizumi burst through it, with Oikawa right behind him, and they stumbled out of the abandoned hotel.

   A broken-down car provided a hiding spot, as the pair crouched down and watched. “What do you think is going to happen?” Oikawa asked, peaking out from behind the trunk.

   “I don’t know,” Iwaizumi said truthfully. “All we can do is watch, Oikawa.”

   Oikawa nodded grimly, and they continued to keep their eyes on the building. Minutes passed in silence, until finally, there was a bang from inside the hotel, followed by the sounds of rapid gunfire. Oikawa grabbed Iwaizumi’s arm and squeezed, hard.

   “It’s alright,” Iwaizumi reassured him. “It’s alright.”

   The gunfire continued for another thirty seconds or so, then stopped. For two or three heart-pounding seconds, the entire area was deathly quiet. Then, there was a terrible scream, much like the one that they had heard the first night in the woods, followed by the roar of engines. A crash exploded from the hotel, as a massive object broke through the glass of the pool deck.

   Even after everything Iwaizumi had been through, he wouldn’t have believed a description of the ship if he hadn’t seen it himself. It almost looked like ones he had seen in movies, but a thousand times _better._ The surface was smooth and black, like onyx, and it curved seamlessly into the classic sphere and oval shape of old alien movies. Spotlights lined the bottom of the craft, which blinded Iwaizumi, even in the overcast afternoon. It rose about a hundred feet over the hotel, and hovered in mid-air.

   “… What’s it doing?” Oikawa said once he’d found his voice. “Why’s it just sitting there?”

   “I don’t know,” Iwaizumi said. “Maybe it’s waiting for the engines to power up or something.”

   “What if—“

   They were interrupted by a humming that filled the air around them; at first, Iwaizumi thought it was coming from the ship, but then, realized that the source of the noise was inside Oikawa’s bag.

   “The cube!” they yelled in unison. Oikawa pulled it out of the backpack; blue light was emanating from the seams of the cube, and it shook wildly in his hand. Suddenly, it flew upwards, and Oikawa snatched it back.

   “Oikawa…” Iwaizumi said gently.

   “I know,” Oikawa said, still looking at the cube. “I know.”

   He held onto it for a few more seconds, examining the glow, before releasing it. The cube flew through the air, shrinking into a tiny dot as it reached the hovering spaceship. There was a flash, and it disappeared.

   A quiet hum filled the air; suddenly, the lights on the bottom of the spaceship grew even brighter, forcing Oikawa and Iwaizumi to cover their eyes. The humming grew louder, deafeningly so, until there was a pop, and then, silence.

   Iwaizumi opened his eyes. The sky was clear, with no traces of the alien ship that had been there moments before. Mist was still pouring out of the shattered pool deck; it gathered on the ground, making the hotel look like a ghost house. Inside, there were voices, but Iwaizumi couldn’t hear what any of them were saying; his ears were throbbing from the sound of the ship.

   He felt something brush against his shoulder. Oikawa was standing next to him, looking up at the sky longingly. Then, he smiled.

   “We did it, Iwa-chan,” he said. “We saved them.”

   “Yeah,” Iwaizumi said, not able to resist a grin himself. “… I’m sorry about the cube.”

   “It’s okay,” Oikawa said wistfully. “I was thinking about what you said, about throwing away what I have already. And you’re right.”

   Iwaizumi half-smirked. “I’m right?”

   “It surprised me too,” Oikawa said. “But yeah. What I have now… is more than enough.” He looked at Iwaizumi and grinned broadly, crinkling the corners of his eyes. “I wouldn’t change a thing.”

   Iwaizumi smiled back at him, and interlocked their hands. “Me either.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back everyone!! It's been a wild couple of months, but here we are at the last full-length chapter. I'll be posting an epilogue tomorrow with my final remarks, so stay tuned for that!


	12. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And I think it's going to be a long, long time...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAHA WHOOPS A FEW DAYS LATE SORRY EVERYBODY

  In retrospect, Iwaizumi thought, it was a miracle they’d gotten out of that unscathed.

  When they returned home, the government agents were waiting for them, as suspected. However, with no solid proof of Iwaizumi or Oikawa’s involvement, and without the ability to expose the story in the first place, there was nothing they could arrest them for. Iwaizumi received the chewing out of a lifetime from his mother; in ways, he thought, it would have been more preferable to be arrested.

  After that, things were surprisingly normal. Volleyball practices resumed, and the next week, Iwaizumi realized, was—normal.

  As he set his things down on a bench for practice the following Tuesday, Iwaizumi heard his phone beep.

  “Is that your boyfriend?” Hanamakki asked. 

  “Actually, yes,” Iwaizumi said. Oikawa had sent him a message; they’d been discussing the happenings of Wednesday in great depth over the past few days. 

 

_From: Shittykawa_ _  
_ _Yeah, I get that. But it’s a shame we’ll never know for sure, isn’t it? Why they came here in the first place? What’s really out there and what kind of secrets the universe holds?_

 

  He set the phone back in his bag, resolving to text him back after practice. “How’re you and Matsukawa?” he asked Hanamakki.

  “We’re fine,” Hanamakki said. “We were thinking about going out to dinner after practice, if you and Oikawa want to come.”

  “Maybe,” Iwaizumi said. “I’ll see how Oikawa feels.”

  He walked out onto the court, and observed the players, who were doing serve practice. Just as he was about to say something else to Hanamakki, Iwaizumi noticed something.

  "….Where's Akiri?" Iwaizumi asked, turning to his coach, who was standing a few feet away.

  Mizoguchi looked confused. "Who?"

  "The first year," he said, baffled. It wasn't like Mizoguchi to forget player names. "You know, the short one."

  "Oh," he said thoughtfully. "Yeah, that's strange, I… it's like I forgot about him for a second. I think I got an email a couple of days ago that he transferred or something. Can't remember anything else for the life of me."

  "…When did you get the email?"

  "Thursday, I think. Came straight from the ministry of education."

  "And he just left with no warning?"

  "Yep."

  Iwaizumi paused for a moment, then thanked Mizoguchi and went over to his bag. Out of it, he pulled his phone, and opened up his messages.

 

_To: Shittykawa_

_Maybe there's some things that we're better off not knowing._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW. Here we are everybody. What a wild ride it's been. Thank you all for supporting me through it! Anyway, I guess the adventure ends here.  
> ...  
> Almost.  
> My brain is just not done with this AU, and in the spirit of that, I'm happy to announce there is a sequel in the works! It will feature Iwaizumi, Oikawa, and this time, a special guest: angst.  
> Since my Love Live fic is top priority right now, it'll be a little while before I start publishing, but mark my words, it is coming. See you guys soon!

**Author's Note:**

> REALLY short chapter, I know. Trust me, I know. It gets much longer.  
> But that's it folks! Chapter one. Will Iwaizumi and Alien Boy find true love? Probably, because this is a fucking IwaOi fic.  
> Anyway, I promise to have the next chapter of Placebo up by the end of February, and I'll probably update this next week, then every two weeks after that. That's what makes sense to me, anyway.  
> Also, thank you to everyone who wished me luck on my move! Sweden is cold, but I'm surviving.


End file.
